A Universe Away
by RorieAngel
Summary: Ever since his Uncle died, Alex has been a universe away from his peers at Brookland. When he comes back, a lot has changed. R&R please!
1. Chapter 1

Alex Rider

Bring!

The alarm clock next to his bed drilled into his ears as Alex Rider groaned and rolled over. Monday. The first day back at school since his last mission on Dragon Nine. He still had bruises all over his body, along with many cuts and knew he looked like shit but he had to go to school.

Over the past year Alex had missed so much school that the headmaster had rung Jack, threatening to expel him if he didn't show up. So it was with resignation that Alex started getting dressed in his grey school uniform and walked downstairs.

"Morning Jack." He said as he walked down the stairs.

Jack's bright red hair was flopped around her face but she had a huge smile as she put bacon and eggs in front of Alex.

"Aw Jack, you didn't have to make breakfast. I was just going to get some cereal." He said.

"It's ok. Today is your first day of _normal _schooling for months, Alex. You need to get MI6 out of your head. Be a _normal _teenager."

Under his breath Alex muttered, "I don't know if I can." But Jack didn't notice.

After finishing his breakfast he pedalled to school. Walking into the playground, with his bike he was followed by whisper, giggles and smothered conversations. All eyes followed him as he walked his bike over to the rack and locked it.

"Alex!" cried a voice. Alex looked up to see his best friend, -and the only one who knew what had really been doing this year- Tom, run up to him.

"Hi." He said. "How are you? That chickenpox must have been hell, man. In bed for like a month or something!" But Alex could see the curiosity in his friends' eyes as he led the conversation onto topics like football and teachers.

As they walked to the building, some girls gasped as they got a good look at Alex. Half his face was bruised and he had scratch on one collarbone. It was a good thing, Alex reflected, that the school uniform covered most of his body. He could just imagine the shock and revulsion in his peers eyes if they saw his bullet wound.

Were they even his peers anymore? Alex reflected, the kids of Brookland were on a totally different universal plane to him. They worried about homework and dating, while he worried about surviving the next day and what evil guy was going to try to blow up the world next. It may have sounded exciting but to Alex all he wanted to do was actually have enough time to do his homework and not miss months of school avoiding bombs instead of learning the chemicals in them.

His first class was maths, a class once upon a time he had enjoyed but was now pretty far behind in. When he walked into the classroom every person turned to stare at him.

"Oh look." Said one boy, Andrew Mason, who had always hassled Alex. "The druggie is back."

Alex ignored him and went to sit in his usual seat. He had just sat down when a girl he didn't recognize walked into the room and came over to him.

"Um, excuse me." She said "But you're sitting in my seat? Are you new?".

Alex glanced up at her, surprised. She was pretty with long dark hair, freckles and brown eyes.

"My apologies." He said smoothly, nodded at her and went to take the last empty seat in the classroom. He could hear the girl's friends giggling as they filled her in.

"That was Alex Rider!" said a blonde he vaguely remembered to be Sally something.

"You mean the guy who never turns up at school?" asked the girl, she had obviously heard some of the rumours as she glanced over her shoulder at him dubiously. "He seemed pretty nice to me."

"That's just it though, he used to be like, popular and sporty but he's probably been kicked off the football team since he's never here."

"I wonder how he got those bruises." Wondered the girl.

"Probably in a gang fight!" said another of her friends, a rather flighty girl named Alice.

"Or maybe he was attacked by flesh eating spiders!" exclaimed Sally.

At this both Alex and the girl raised an eyebrow at her. Alex was amused, flesh eating spiders? Well not far off, there could have been anything in that jungle. Still that was one of the dumbest suggestions yet.

"Um… no." said the girl.

"Aw but Gwen!" whined Sally.

So her name was Gwen, thought Alex, that was a really pretty name, he wondered if it was short for anything.

The period was torture. His missions had left him completely behind and he sat at the back of the room feeling like a moron. Would MI6 even care if he flunked math? Probably not.

At break he had to deal with the stares and whispers of the Brookland school children, while he stoically tried to ignore them. Tom was brilliant, he kept the worst of the people away with death glares and loudly voiced rude comments at others. It didn't stop the whispers though.

People stared at him as though he had two heads, though Alex realised part of that was his appearance. He and Tom had put it about that he'd been mugged, since the damage was so bad but no one believed them. Not when what the rumours were saying was so much more exciting. Alex reflected that if the truth ever came out they wouldn't believe him anyway.

His last period of the day was gym, he handed the teacher his sick note and, for the last time that day was given the typical disbelieving stare at the completely credible doctors note.

"Look Rider, I know you were our star on the football team, but you've just missed too much school. You aren't reliable. You can play reserve on all the matches you're here for, if you pass my tests at training this afternoon. Alright?"

Alex sighed, he knew this would happen, he couldn't help the bitter feeling in the back of his throat though, at the thought that MI6 had taken away yet another piece of his ever deteriorating life.

"Yeah Coach, thanks. I'll be there." Alex said tiredly.

He took a cursory glance around the gym, only to notice something odd going on in the corner. Several boys were crowding around his locker, which was conveniently located in his favourite part of the building, while it looked like none was keeping guard. The others were forcing the lock.

Angry, Alex stood up, only to see the boy keeping watch point at him. Quickly the boys fled around a corner, apparently not part of his class.

Without the bulk of the boys covering it, he could see that the boys had done a real number on his locker. There were odd posters all over it, and though he couldn't make out the words he knew what they would say quite clearly.

Alex Rider was _not _welcome in their universe anymore.

**A/N: Do British schools have lockers? Because we do in Australia, it's not just an American thing. Should I keep this as a one-shot or continue writing? If I do keep writing I promise Gwen is **_**not **_**going to be a Mary Sue, or Alex's girlfriend, or his partner. In fact I'm not sure what I'll do with her. Suggestions? Either way, please review telling me what you think! This is my first Alex Rider fanfiction.**


	2. Chapter 2

That afternoon, after his first football session in quite some time, Alex reflected that the only good thing about his missions from MI6 was his improved athletic abilities. Sure, they were gained by dodging bullets, but he'd had enough skills to impress the Coach and hopefully keep him off the bench. It was a relief; at least one thing in his life was, sort of, back to normal. Though, with a sigh, Alex reminded himself that it was only until the next life and death mission MI6 blackmailed him into.

"Hey Alex! Wait up!" yelled Tom as he jogged out of the boys change room. Alex himself had done some careful manoeuvring to get changed out of sight. He smiled tiredly at Tom and slowed until he caught up.

"Hey Tom." He replied.

"So, now that you're back, a couple of us were going to go hang at the café. You want to come?" The café was the local team hangout, back when Alex was actually there, the football team used to go and hang out there after practice. Now, though, he wasn't sure he would be so welcome.

"I don't know Tom. I promised Jack I'd be back straight after practice." This was a lie. Jack had made him promise no such thing. In fact she had been dropping hints that he could stay out as late as wanted, doing something _normal_. But Alex didn't tell Tom that, he knew all the tricks to lying. Looking him straight in the eyes, a rueful smile playing on his lips, he continued.

"Maybe some other time."

"Well, ok." Said Tom, searching his friend's eyes for something. Apparently satisfied, he rocked back on his heels and smiled.

"See you tomorrow then."

"Yeah, see you."

As Alex cycled home he contemplated how his life had changed to the point where he'd rather go home and listen to Jack's bad jokes and eat not particularly stellar cooking, than eat out with his teammates. In a normal world, one where MI6 never existed, he probably would have spent more time avoiding chores and homework than his friends. Not that they were friends. Not anymore.

Upon reaching the front door of his Chelsea home, Alex straightened his shoulders and put on a cheerful expression. Not that Jack would really be fooled. But he could try.

"Jack," he yelled, "I'm home."

There was a loud bang followed by a loud curse and Alex rushed into the kitchen to find Jack nursing a sore toe and a frying pan sitting innocently on the floor.

Jack glared at it with enough venom to make anyone quake in fear.

"Stupid frying pan she muttered, "It looks so smug just lying there on the ground after it evilly assaulted my toe!"

Alex couldn't help it, as he picked up the frying pan he couldn't stop himself from laughing at Jack's words. It felt so nice to come home after a hard day of school and have Jack there to cheer him up. As he turned away he missed jack's satisfied smirk as she watched him laugh. When he turned back to her again, she pouted.

"Oh, so now you're taking it's side." She asked, mock indignantly. "See what I get you for your birthday!"

"So," she asked later, when they were seating at the dining table eating spaghetti, "How was your first day back?"

"Oh, it was fine. Just school. You know." He replied, trying to keep his answers brief. He knew the saying 'If you don't have anything good to say don't say it at all' was all too true when trying to be normal while talking to Jack. She could tell he was lying, all too easily.

"I'm back on the football team, but on probation. It's cool though."

"Well, that's great Alex!" exclaimed Jack, her hair bouncing as she nodded excitedly. "I'm glad you're still doing _normal _activities. So were all your friends glad to have you back?"

What friends? Alex asked himself; besides Tom he didn't really have anyone. But he couldn't tell Jack that. She'd be so disappointed, or even worse, so mad she'd march up to the school and start yelling at everyone at lunch. He'd just die if that happened. So he lied.

"Oh, yeah. Everyone was surprised to see me." Well, he wasn't lying exactly, just bending the truth slightly and avoiding the question. After all, they had been surprised. It was just also about the nicest thing he could say about them.

"This spaghetti is delicious." He said, waving his fork around as he tried to divert her. Maybe he should take lesson in hypnosis or something. That would be great when he was on mission. 'You will not kill me, now go dance like a chicken.' Alex snorted at the thought. Like that would work.

Jack however wasn't fooled.

"So, everyone was pleased to see you?" she probed further, "No one gave you _any _trouble?"

"Nah, Jack. Really, I mean, not everyone's friendly but I've been away so long. Some new girl even told me I was sitting in her seat in math. She asked me if _I _was new!" It was always better to put a bit of truth in your lies, Alex had learnt, it made them look more believable.

"Really?" Jack laughed, suspicion now gone from her eyes.

"Yeah," said Alex, "Really."

-X-

The next day, as Alex stepped into his homeroom for rollcall, there was a little less whispering, but just as much staring and Alex resigned himself to the fact that he was a permanent object of interest. Even the teacher looked surprised to see him turn up two days in a row.

In his first class of the day Spanish, Alex was happy to find at least one teacher who didn't want to put him in detention upon sight. Of course, Señora Tesan mostly didn't mind because Alex was already fluent in Spanish and would ace any test she gave him anyway. But still, she was an unlikely ally. She could not however stop the nasty little comments and snide looks that were sent Alex's way.

One girl, Jessica, if Alex remembered correctly, put her hand up and asked, "Excuse me, but how do you say drug addict in Spanish?" and the whole class laughed.

Alex, sitting in one of the middle rows near the side, was bored. For total lack of anything better to do, he listened to the conversation happening behind him

"I heard he's in a gang!" said one voice.

"Really? I heard he was in Juvie. For, like, stealing or something." Said another.

"No, that's not it. I heard he's really joined a circus as a lion tamer. That's how he got all those bruises. From sticking his head in some giant lions mouth!"

He couldn't help but snort incredulously by now. Though, admittedly, even lion taming sounded generally less dangerous than the stuff he'd been doing. There was a technique for it, and tranquilizers. In the spy world there was no running out of the cage and locking the door behind you.

"Right…" drawled the first voice, "You know, I have an Uncle who works at the Police Department. I bet I could get him to check Rider out."

"Really, that'd be awesome!" was the general consensus from behind his back. Alex raised an eyebrow, dubiously. He didn't think they'd find anything, but… maybe it was worth a call to the bank? No, he decided. He didn't want MI6 in his life anymore than possible.

After a few more theories had sprouted up, the craziest including him as a rare art thief and member of a secret cult that wanted to take over the world with some sort of fish, Alex decided to turn around.

"Hey guys," he said as he surveyed the faces that had been gossiping about him, recognizing a few as former friends. "I heard Alex doesn't care what you think, and wants to leave him the hell alone!" he practically snarled at them.

"Gee," sniffed Jessica "He doesn't have to be so touchy!"

**A/N: Guess what! I updated! I don't really have any good excuses, except I didn't know quite where was going with this. Anyway, I hope this holds up to the first chapter. Please review and tell me what you think! I received quite a lot of answers about the lockers, but quite a few contradicted each other, so I'm going out on a limb and saying that there are lockers in the gym. Please feel free to leave, suggestions, comments and criticism! **


	3. Chapter 3

In the week that followed, Alex found his life was slowly going back to normal. Sure, people still stared and whispered about him. And, yeah, maybe, he still only had Tom, but he was finally catching up on his schoolwork and feeling like a normal teenager again. One, whose biggest problems were homework and winning the next football match.

If he was completely honest with himself, Alex couldn't quite believe that MI6 hadn't called him and asked him to go to Brazil. If he wasn't absolutely positive he'd look ridiculous, Alex would probably have been pinching himself every five minutes. It just seemed extraordinary that he could be settling into a routine.

However, it was inevitable in Alex's life that Murphy's Law would come back into play.

After a relaxing weekend hanging out with Tom, bantering with Jack and catching up on chemistry, Alex was ready to go back to school. Perhaps, he thought, people would have found something new to gossip about over the weekend.

Later, Alex would think how much he regretted ever thinking that.

-x-

As he walked into the school building that day, Alex noticed an influx of staring people. In fact, they were doing more than just staring; they were looking at him in both fear and awe.

He managed to get through homeroom and first period without any major hassles. Tom helping him steer through the most persistent offenders. Alex reflected that without Tom, life at school would have been absolute hell. Tom deflected the worst of the comments –at least to his face- and kept Alex human.

Sadly though, Tom couldn't be with him every second of the day. In third period Alex had geography, but Tom, who hated the subject, had modern history instead.

After they separated in the hallway, Alex walked quickly towards his classroom. He was trying, of course, to avoid being the object of the entire schools fascination. Using all his MI6 stealth to avoid bumping into anyone, he manoeuvred his way through the hallways.

His class however, was on the other side of the school from where he'd started, which meant he'd have to take the main corridor if he wanted to make it before the next bell rang. Seriously considering making a dash for it, Alex looked both ways, looking to avoid the oncoming traffic of students, all pushing and shoving, uncaring of anyone but themselves.

It would be nice, Alex thought, if instead of contempt and ridicule, his absences had spurned fear, so that he could have cut a path through them. Like in the movies, when everything goes in slow motion and the people back away, staring in awe. Yes, Alex thought, that would have been preferable.

"Oh my gosh, Alex!" came a nasal voice from behind him. Alex turned wearily, running his hand through his hair, ready to answer another silly question. It was Sally, she was in most of his classes and was one of the main instigators of the gossip. She had come up to him multiple times in the week, pestering him with questions of, _what gang are you in? _and _how long are you staying for this time?_

"Everyone's talking about what you did!" She exclaimed "It's just so unbelievable!"

Alex looked at her blankly. He hadn't the faintest clue what she was talking about. The only unbelievable thing he'd done recently was save the world, and she couldn't possibly know about _that_. Could she? Alex shook that thought off, of course she couldn't, and headed off to class. Ignoring Sally's voice calling from behind him. He really didn't want to know and held nothing but contempt for the girl.

Alex had found, by now that it was easy to block out the gossip and stares and therefore sat studiously in geography, disregarding the eyes he could feel burning holes in the back of his head. He purposefully seated himself in the front row, so that at least he wouldn't have to watch the people in front of him turn around whenever he spoke.

He hadn't counted on, however, the group of boys he had sat in front of. Obviously hoarding some kind of ill will towards him, they began to throw bits of paper at the back of his head when the teacher wasn't looking. When Alex refused to engage in any conflict, they turned nastier. Soon pens were being thrown, the boy next to him 'accidently' spilt water on his book and other particularly childish, yet bothersome gestures.

Tired of ignoring their juvenile antics Alex turned around and glared at them. They all looked down at their books, unwilling to meet his gaze.

When Alex turned back around, however, the pen flicking, paper throwing and other accidents began again.

Alex glared at his geography teacher, the man had to be blind and deaf not to have noticed what was going on in the very front row of his classroom. The teacher however, did indeed seem to turn a blind eye. It was a sad day, Alex reflected, when your reputation at school gets so tarnished the teachers will _let _bullying go on in their classroom.

It wasn't that Alex was very bothered by this casual bullying, after all he had dealt with the terrifying reality of adult bullying, aka, psychopathic maniacs trying to take over the world. However, it was disheartening to find he was a social pariah from everyone, even a once favoured teacher.

When orange juice was finally spilled on his bag, Alex had had enough. He stood up violently, sending his chair clattering to the ground as he glared at everyone.

"Mr Rider what-" the teacher started, but Alex cut him off.

"Stop it." He said angrily, his voice harsh and unyielding, eyes cold as ice. "I'm sick of everyone treating me like a criminal. You can think whatever the _hell _you like about me- as if I care what a bunch of immature schoolchildren like you think of me- but you _will_ stop sabotaging, trying to make my life hell. I've already been through it and there is no way anything you can do to me could possibly compare. I'm sick of taking this quietly. I'm sick-" he added with a pointed glare at the teacher. "Of being the scapegoat. You can spread this around to all your friends;" he sneered, looking at all the upturned faces around him. Staring at him, as if he was completely crazy.

"Alex Rider is pissed off."

-x-

By the time Alex sat down to eat lunch with Tom, the entire school had heard about the incident. He'd been in huge trouble of course, supposedly for disrupting his class, the teacher had given him a week's detention and told him to see the headmaster after school for a little 'chat'. Jack had been rung, and was going to meet him there after school.

"So you didn't kill anyone?" Tom teased, as he sat down next to him, grinning.

"No." Alex replied, "Though maybe that would have gotten the message to stick."

"Ah," Tom tsked, wagging a finger. "But that would have gotten you expelled. Would have done a lot for the bad boy reputation though. Girls love bad boys."

"I don't think they love homicidal psychopaths though. Which is what they'd think I was." Alex replied, enjoying the banter.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Tom teased. "I bet they think it's kinda hot. In a, walk on the wild side, one night stand sort of way."

"Yep." Alex nodded, "because that's really what I'm going for."

Tom shook his head, still grinning and took a bit out of his sandwich.

"What would you know about girls anyway?" taunted Alex, elbowing Tom in the ribs.

"Hey!" yelped Tom indignantly, "I know plenty about girls."

"Yeah right." Alex snorted and the boys descended insults and derisive comments.

Alex revelled in it, the feeling of just letting loose and messing around was like sunshine after a rainy day. Tom made him feel normal and Alex felt free, if only for a few moments, from the burdens weighing on his shoulders.

That came to an end of course, the second the bell rang and reality descended upon them again. Alex suffered the last periods of the day, determinedly ignoring the stares and gossip that followed him everywhere. He could not, however, ignore the bell when it rang for the end of school and the beginning of more problems for Alex.

**A/N: Sorry it took so long to update, I had it sitting on my computer half finished forever! I hope you enjoy it though. I really appreciate all the reviews, alerts and favourites. They make my day! Please give me comments, opinions, criticism etc.**


	4. Chapter 4

At 3:10, Alex stepped into the headmaster's office, the dull grey and drab browns foreboding in the afternoon light. Though perhaps it was his state of mind speaking. He'd been to the headmaster's office before of course, Mr Bray liked to keep an eye on his school and the students in it. On this particular trip though, he knew that things would probably come to a head. Mr Bray had been, if only tenuously, willing to let Alex stay in school as long as he wasn't causing any trouble. That afternoon however, Alex had done just that.

Granted, of course, it was quite reasonable, considering the harassment he had endured the past week, but he had a pretty bad record, what with the absences and rumours surrounding him.

It was five students and a teacher, all with far better records than him, who he had been 'causing trouble' for.

Jack was already seated as he walked in, her red hair frizzy, like it always was when she was stressed. She look tired and frustrated and didn't smile at him when he sat down next to her, facing Mr Bray.

The headmaster stared Alex in the eyes and sighed, running a hand through his grey hair.

"Alex," he began "I can't pretend to know exactly what happened today, so I'd like you to tell me. However, keep in mind lying will not be tolerated.

Alex nodded, and recounted the day's incident with the group of boys in geography.

"So you see sir," he explained when he was done. "while I am sorry for the disruption to the class, I do believe it was a provoked action and I can't say I'm sorry for giving everyone a piece of my mind."

Mr Bray sighed again, tiredly.

"Look." He said speaking mostly to Alex. "You used to be a good kid, but recently… your attendance rate is grounds for expulsion, I cannot simply let you get away with missing all this school. It sets a bad example to the rest of the students."

"But sir, I really have-" Alex began to protest, but Mr Bray held up his hand.

"Whether you have or not, any more absences will result in either expulsion or, preferably being held back a year. The school board has spoken to me and they are quite adamant."

Jack opened her mouth as if to protest, but also fell silent when Mr Bray shook his head.

"I'm sorry, but it's the way things have to be. Now, I'm afraid there's something else I need to discuss with you. There have been a few _complaints_ from parents about the rumours that surround your disappearances. Someone looked into your police record and found some rather interesting things."

Alex froze. What had they found? Surely, MI6 hadn't let anyone get hold of damaging material? He glanced at Jack, who frowned worriedly at him, chewing her bottom lip, another sign of nerves.

"What kind of things?" she asked, her eyes steely.

"I-" Mr Bray wavered. "That is, I don't know-"

"Sir, it's fine. You don't have to tiptoe around it." Alex reassured.

"Apparently," Mr Bray started delicately "You dropped a barge on a convention centre. But ah- weren't charged. Alex, this is a serious offence, if the school board got hold of it ,which they will, this would renew their calls for expulsions or long term suspension and rehabilitation at an institution."

Alex glanced nervously at Jack, whose hair was starting to frizz even more. When he caught her eye, he tried to smile reassuringly, but all that he managed was a grimace.

"There are some less believable –well it sound ridiculous to say that is believable too- but some less… in any way, plausible, rumours around these complaints that I won't comment on now. But Alex-" he stopped, seeming to steel himself before continuing, "life could get even more complicated if the source of these complaints tells anyone. And I know, people are unreasonable, but you have to see how this looks. Parents especially, they can get rather, ah, protective, of their young. Rather like mother lions with their cubs."

Slumping in his seat, Alex rubbed at his eyes, feeling the strain of the day getting to him.

"Yes, sir." He replied, for lack of anything more to say and turned to Jack. She took his hand from where it lay on the seat and squeezed it.

"I wonder, Miss Starbright, if I might talk to you a minute alone?" asked Mr Bray.

At Jack's nod, Alex left the room and leant against the door. His thoughts were in turmoil. Words, circling more words as they floated around in his head. Phrases, ominous and foreboding looming in his mind like dark shadows.

How could MI6 have let this happen? Granted, the whole barge thing hadn't been a mission, but all the same; kicked out of school, rehab, that would hardly look good on any job application.

Oh, Alex thought miserably, that could definitely be it. Make him need MI6, make him stay with them even after he was 18, because he'd have no better options. And, Alex thought, _that_ just _wasn't _an option. When he turned 18, he was going to get out of that world as soon as possible. Even if it meant moving to Jamaica.

Suddenly the door of the office opened and Alex stumbled back, surprised. Jack and Mr Bray looked back at him, amused, as he turned around to face them.

"We're done now Alex." Said Jack, briskly, her hair even frizzier than when he'd left her a few minutes ago.

He followed her quickly, almost having to jog to keep up with her rapid strides.

"Come on Alex." She gestured impatiently as they reached the parking lot.

After securing his bike to the car, Alex got into the passenger seat. The two were silent on the drive home, both pondering the events of the day. However, as soon as she had opened the door and the keys had clattered into the waiting dish, Jack spoke.

"Alex, this isn't working." His stomach dropped as he heard it, four dreaded words he'd never ever wanted to hear from Jack's lips. Would she leave him? Would he be left to face whatever horrible boys home MI6 shipped him off to until they needed him?

"Jack I-" he started, but stopped, unsure of what he had been about to say. What could he say? That he was sorry? That it wasn't his fault? That everything was fine, really? That it would all pass? He couldn't lie to Jack, couldn't see it on her face as she realised he was.

Jack's smile as she looked at him was soft and gentle. She began to speak.

"Alex, I love you. I really do. You're like the little brother I never had. I don't want to abandon you to MI6, but you have to understand. This is hard for me to. It's hard for me to see you come back from each mission, with even less life in your eyes. It's hard for me to see that your only friend is Tom. It's hard for me to see how you won't tell me anything about your day, because there is nothing good to say about it. I just…don't know what to do anymore."

She was looking at him with pity, Alex realised, and he hated it. Jack had never been one for pity, she'd always been a plucky-go-and-do-it-yourself kind of person. Jack suddenly looked exhausted after her little speech, her hair deflating as she collapsed into a chair. She looked so much older than she really was, as if aged ten years in a single day.

Alex felt guilt, gnawing at his stomach. It was his problems that had done this to Jack. It was his life that constantly put her under pressure, that put _her _in danger. She was looking after a kid in London who she wasn't even related to. No one was paying her anymore, Ian's life insurance was supporting the two of them, but soon she'd have to get a job. Even though she'd never completed her credentials at University.

Why, Alex pondered, did life have to be so complicated?

"We need," he began slowly "to decide how to proceed."

"Oh Alex." Jack sighed, "I just don't know what to do anymore. Let me think for a few days. Ok? Give me some time to figure this out, then we'll talk."

He nodded.

-x-

The next day, Alex was melancholy. The rainy London weather seemed to reflect his dreary state of mind. Why, he wondered, could nothing ever go right with him?

It was unfair of him, he supposed, to think he had such a terrible life. There were millions of people in the world, after all, living on less than $2 a day. Compared to them, he was well off. But it didn't seem that way.

School was strange. The minute he walked into the schoolyard, people stopped their conversations to openly gape at him. Not just oh-wow-it's-the-druggie-and-he's-still-back-at-school staring either. It was actual full out OMG-IT'S-ALEX-RIDER staring.

Alex felt a prickle of foreboding, the hair on the back of his neck rising under the scrutiny of so many gazes. But it was more than that, the intensity with which they looked at him was foreboding. Suddenly, Alex remembered Sally words the day before. _Everyone's talking about what you did. It's just so unbelievable. _What exactly had she meant by that?

And what had Mr Bray said? _Life could get even more complicated if the source of these complaints tells anyone. _Alex had a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach, one that was telling him that was exactly what had happened.

"Alex!" yelled a voice from across the yard and Tom came jogging up to him, his face grim.

"I think we need to talk somewhere, uh, _private._" He glanced at all the people watching them curiously. Alex nodded, already pretty sure of what he was about to hear and let Tom pull him into the school building and an empty classroom.

"Listen, Alex." He whispered. "Someone's been spreading a rumour, that uh, might be true."

"What do you mean?" Alex questioned.

"Something about, uh, dropping a barge on a building. Someone's Uncle is in the Police…" Tom paused, before continuing in an even quieter voice. "Look, anyway, the teachers believe it, parent power and all that, so you're gonna have to watch your back. There are some pretty crazy rumours spreading. Nasty ones."

Alex sighed, massaging his temples, he could feel a headache coming on. On missions he could deal with anything, because he was a spy, he didn't have rules, he was fighting for his life. But at school he could do that. There were restrictions and rules. Sure, he wasn't fighting for his life, but that would have been simpler. He could do that.

He shook his head, realising what he had just said, or rather, _thought._ He was making it sound like he _wanted _to go on a mission. Which was the opposite of true. Wasn't it?

"Well," he smiled at Tom, "They can't be any crazier than the rumour that, I spend my time betting on fighting crickets!"

"Wanna bet?"

"Nah."

They laughed together until the bell rang. As Alex and Tom parted ways to their respective classrooms Tom swung back around and yelled to him, gathering stares in the hallway.

"Oh and Alex." He grinned, "I was the one who started the cricket fighting one. You should totally try it, I think it could be your new hobby!"

Shaking his head, but feeling considerably cheered up, Alex departed for his homeroom and another tiring, stressful day at Brookland Comprehensive.

**A/N: See? I updated quickly and it's a bit longer than usual! Yay! The second half went really differently from how I'd planned… but there it is. Pretty depressing chapter really, I almost feel bad for making Alex go through all that. :P Questions, comments, critiques? Please review and tell me what you think, they make my day!**


	5. Chapter 5

That day was one of the most stressful of Alex's life, his normal life that is. If he'd been a druggie before, he was now a child serial killer and hit man. The rumours were wild, of course, as the students now had a fact to back up their speculation of misdoing and were gleefully extorting it. Twisting the words, passed on from word of mouth, until they held little resemblance to the actual deed or original (though granted most likely already ostentatious), making up crazy and ficticious stories about the circumstances surrounding their new favourite piece of gossip. They felt vindicated, proved right about druggie Alex Rider and his weird absences.

It was, Alex thought, good _fun_. After all, it wasn't _them._

At home, Jack was tense and quiet, the house feeling somehow less welcoming without her bad jokes and terrible soap operas. She moved around like a ghost, automatically cooking her ten-minute pasta recipe and then retreating to her room.

This behaviour was so unlike her that Alex was half tempted to call a doctor. Instead he had a relaxing hot shower, that helped soothe the tense knots in his back and neck and went to bed early. He put some music on softly, hoping to drown out actual thoughts as he drifted off to sleep. He knew the second he started thinking, he would never get to sleep.

When Alex woke the next morning he turned blearily to see his alarm clock said 10 o'clock. He had a moment where his sleepy brain didn't register, before shooting out of bed like a rocket. School had started almost two hours ago! He'd gone to bed early too, so he must have had about 14 hours of sleep. Obviously the stress was getting to him, he'd slept right through his alarm.

He started a mad dash to get ready, packing his books and tugging his uniform on, before suddenly wondering why Jack hadn't woken him up as she normally would have when he didn't show up for breakfast.

Alex had a sinking feeling in the bottom of his stomach as walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. It looked normal enough, but Jack wasn't there. Maybe she'd gone shopping for groceries? He went to check for her keys in the dish by the door and sure enough they were gone. She must have just assumed he'd left for school already.

Breathing a sigh of relief Alex put himself back into fast mode. Grabbing a muffin as he cycled to school.

When he reached the front office Miss Bedfordshire looked at him, surprised.

"Alex!" She exclaimed. "Where have you been?"

"Ah," He flicked his hair out of his eyes and replied with a sheepish grin. "I'm afraid I slept right through my alarm clock. All the stress and stuff." Sadly, there were actually advantages to working for MI6, such as his superb lying and manipulating skills.

Miss Bedfordshire melted, just as predicted. "Oh Alex, it's just fine. Here," she started scribbling, "I'll write you a pass to class. Just try not to do it again."

He gave another grin and thanked her, before heading off to his first class; maths.

-X-

When he opened the door to the classroom all heads turned automatically to the welcome distraction from algebra. Eyebrows, including the teachers, shot up when they saw who it was. He supposed they'd thought he'd gotten 'sick' again and wouldn't be back for another month.

He sat in the only spare seat available, unfortunately in front of several rather giggly girls.

"So Alex," one of them whispered, leaning in like she was sharing a secret, when the teacher's back was turned. "Where have you been this morning?"

Alex wasn't positive, but it really sounded like she was flirting with him. Baffled he answered shortly.

"I slept in."

"Oh really?" She arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow. "You can tell me." She smiled at him.

Completely thrown, Alex just stared at her. None of his missions had prepared him for this! Keeping his cool exterior however, he arched an eyebrow in turn and went back to his textbook.

"I promise I won't tell." She wheedled, smiling what he assumed was meant to be a seductive smile. He steadfastly ignored her. What did she think she was doing? He hadn't realised that his bad boy reputation had expanded to the point where it had somehow become a good thing. _Not _that having some catty girl flirting with him was a particularly good thing at all. Actually, it sort of creeped him out. He couldn't even remember her name. He was pretty sure it started with J though. Justine? Jessica?

Alex shook his head. Back before MI6 he could have named every single person in this room. However, his limited interaction with his peers, totally spaced out attitude in class and managing to miss the majority of the school year meant he had forgotten quite a few of them. Like seeing faces in a café or in the street from primary school or your old football team, who you even might have been friends with, but just can't name. He wasn't sure how he felt about it. On one hand, he might be so isolated from his peers that he couldn't remember the names of the ones he'd never talked to, but at least that meant he couldn't put a name to every person who ever gossiped about him.

After ignoring the girl, unfalteringly for the entirety of the lesson, Alex stalked out of the classroom in a terrible mood. He was walking quickly, still annoyed, when he accidently ran into someone.

When Alex looked up he found himself staring at a 17 or 18 year old who most definitely did not look friendly. In fact, he looked most certainly like a big angry bull, standing there in the middle of the hallway.

"Rider." The boy growled, "Get the hell out of my way."

Alex muttered an apology under his breath.

"What was that?" yelled the guy, who Alex thought he should just name Bull in his head, for his startling likeness to one. He pushed Alex against the wall roughly, his hands fisted in Alex's shirt.

The part of Alex that was a testosterone fuelled teenage male, wanted to swear at the guy and push him back, _harder. _To ask, what is wrong with you, jerk? However, the cooler part of Alex's mind, the bit that had been honed by his missions for MI6 knew that would be a bad idea.

So when Bull punched him, Alex didn't block it. That would only fuel Bull's anger, and they would probably end up brawling, something Alex couldn't afford now that he was pretty much a probationary student at Brookland. Instead, he strategically angled his cheek to get as much bruising but as little pain as possible. After all, he wanted proof that _he _had been the victim.

People in the corridor were growing louder as they watched Bull hit him. Alex Rider, the druggie, was being assaulted, they whispered to each other.

"You think you can mouth off to me?" Bull snarled, "You think you're so cool because rumour has it you take drugs and run a gang. Well, I think you're some little upstart wimp, who's actually just some delivery boy. You're just some little coward who nobody likes and nobody ever will."

Brutal shaking and some pummelling with the fists to Alex's ribcage punctuated this entire speech. Luckily, Bull didn't seem to know how to make a beating really hurt. Not compared to anything he'd been through. However, Alex couldn't figure out what this guy's problem was. He seemed to be taking a lot of pent up aggression out on him. Why was some guy a couple of years ahead of him even vaguely interested in him? Much less interested enough to start beating him up for accidently running into him. It was clear to Alex that there was something else going on here.

Mercifully, some charitable do-gooder had decided to call a teacher (or the teacher had just heard Bull's ranting) because suddenly Bull was being pulled off him and a very angry adult stood between them.

"Rider, Westwood, you are coming with me. The rest off you back to class!" yelled Mr Blaine effectively scattering the students, leaving the two boys to follow him morosely to the headmasters office.

When they were pushed in Mr Bray raised an eyebrow at Alex, taking in his appearance. Alex wondered just how bad he looked. Most of the bruises wouldn't be visible yet and were under his shirt anyway, but he was quite positive he looked roughed up.

Once they'd gone over the incident Mr Bray looked to Bull, whose real name was apparently Dave Westwood and asked for an explanation of his behaviour.

"It's not cool, ok." Westwood answered, confusing Alex. "This kid should be at school, not taking drugs or whatever. It's not something he should be involved in, and then he comes back and people think he's kinda cool. But it's not. It's the stupidest thing you," he looked directly at Alex. "could possibly do with your life."

"What's it to you?" Alex regretted the retort as soon as it came out of his mouth. Westwood's face clouded over.

"Let's just say I know this from experience." Alex's eyes widened, but he said nothing for a moment.

"Look," he began a bit later. "I know you don't believe me, but all that stuff, it's really just rumour. I'm not into drugs or gangs."

Mr Bray and Westwood both stared at him for a bit but neither replied or gave any indication as to whether or not they believed him.

"I'm afraid Mr Westwood, that however _noble,_" Mr Bray said the word almost questioningly, as if unable to believe he'd really just said that about a student caught beating someone up. "your intentions were, this will obviously go on your permanent record. As you were the victim Mr Rider, it will not appear on yours."

Alex shook his head at the absurdity of the situation, a bully beating him up as a good deed. Oh the irony.

"I will, of course be informing your parents," He glanced at Alex, "or guardians as the case may be. Please wait outside, and no fighting."

The two boys stood and sat outside in uncomfortable silence.

Mr Bray came out a bit later, frowning.

"Well, Mr Westwood, you father is on his way but Alex, I can't seem to get into contact with your guardian."

Alex had a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was probably just over reacting, and it wasn't like he really wanted her to know he'd just gotten beaten up, but… where was she? Where was Jack?

**A/N: Another update! Yay! I really need to get motivated to write more so I can keep updating while on holiday. **

**Can't say I'm thrilled with this chapter but I wanted to get it out in good time, even though it gave me such a hard time. Did you like? Your response to this fic has been awesome, I love getting all the alerts and favourites and reviews! Questions, comments, critiques? Please review and tell me what you think, they make my day! **


	6. Chapter 6

Alex sat outside Mr Bray's office, feeling too tired to try and eavesdrop. Mr Bray was currently trying to get in touch with Jack as he said there was 'too much risk of Alex brushing the incident off' and that, 'the school board would have his head' if he didn't notify a parent or guardian immediately.

However, it seemed that Jack had disappeared off the face of the Earth.

"Alex." Said a voice from the doorway. Alex, who had been slumped on the bench outside the office, slowly straightened and turned to face the Headmaster.

"Can you get your file from Miss Bedfordshire at the office? She's a bit busy." Alex nodded

Miss Bedfordshire, who seemed to be yelling at someone on the phone, handed him his file with a small smile. Alex took it, but was struck with a thought. The school had updated student files into their computer system a couple of ears ago. Meaning that the paper versions were only for server crashes. Being extremely paranoid, a million possibilities of exactly _why _he had been sent for the paper version filled his head. He started to feel faintly sick. Maybe it was nothing, but so many terrible reasons for Jack not answering filled his head. Had she been kidnapped? Gotten into an accident? Left him?

Slowly, Alex trudged his way back to Mr Bray's office, each step feeling weighed down by lead. He didn't want to know which of the horrible possibilities was true.

After giving the Headmaster the file he slumped down on the bench. It felt, however, much too hard and he sank, instead, to the ground. It didn't feel much better, but Alex who suddenly felt very tired, had to repress the urge to just lie down. To sleep, and escape the worry of the conscious world.

Instead, however, he slid closer to the door, checking no one was watching and angling his shadow before putting his ear to the edge of the crack between the door and floor.

"I'm sorry, who-" Came Mr Bray's voice, abruptly stopping halfway through a sentence.

Alex couldn't hear the voice on the other side of the phone but listened avidly to half the conversation.

"Well, you see-" A rustle of papers.

"Alex Rider, yes. Brookland Comprehensive." A long pause.

"I'm sorry, _Liverpool Street?_" The incredulous statement filled Alex with dread, he knew exactly what resided on Liverpool Street.

"Well, no but-" Alex almost smiled as he heard the Headmaster being interrupted yet another time. Almost, being the keyword, as he knew exactly _who_ or rather _what, _was interrupting him.

I'm afraid I must insist-" A bang. A foot?

"Did you say _elephants?_" Alex did smile this time, wishing he had another line to listen in on. Poor Mr Bray, MI6 could be quite confusing. And that was putting it nicely.

Mrs Jones, Alex needs his guardian to-" Alex stilled and sat back on his heels, away from the door. He regretted not listening for the entire conversation. What exactly did not having a guardian mean? Did Mrs Jones or Blunt for that matter, know where Jack was? They were MI6 after all. They should know everything. Should he ask them for help? Did he want to?

The door opening interrupted his turbulent thoughts. That had happened a lot as of late, actually.

"Ah, Alex." Said Mr Bray as Alex stood up.

"Yes, sir?" He replied, hesitantly, unsure of the answer he would be receiving.

"Why don't you come in?" Mr Bray gestured to his office, following Alex in and closing the door behind them. Alex sat down in the grey chair opposite Mr Bray's desk. Reflecting once again on the drab colour scheme. He tried hard not to focus on the fact that not so long ago he and Jack had been sitting side by side, a united force. He glanced quickly at the empty chair beside him, feeling his heart clench at the sight of it.

"Sir?" He questioned, after it became clear that Mr Bray wasn't going to break the silence that stretched between them.

"Alex, it seems this has become even more complicated." Alex stayed silent, willing Mr Bray to explain quickly.

"When I called the second number on your file as an emergency contact I got the Royal and General Bank." He paused, obviously waiting for a reaction, but none was forthcoming.

"They informed me that their Head is currently, and in the _eyes of the law_, your current guardian. Not Miss Starbright. Apparently, she has only been a temporary guardian and there is no real legal claim she has over you. Alex," he paused, softening his voice. "She has been declared an unfit guardian and apparently is being deported as we speak."

"What?" Alex jumped to his feet, enraged, not caring that he'd sent his chair clattering to the ground or that Mr Bray was trying to placate him. Instead, he ripped his phone out of his pocket and dialled the contact labelled R&G.

"Get me Blunt, now." He ordered sharply to the poor secretary on the receiving end of the call.

Mr Bray watched in disbelief as Alex Rider, turned in front of him from innocent schoolboy to lethal man. He'd always liked Alex, had heard good reports from his teachers who said who was an intelligent person, a loyal friend and a very honest student. When Alex had started missing school, he'd tried to be understanding, after all his Uncle had just died. However, after several long absences he started to get worried. Rumours started to circulate, the teachers stopped their glowing reports, preferring not to mention him. Mr Bray had no illusions, this was a Government funded school, and kids sometimes went off the rails. He'd just never expected it to be Alex.

When teachers started saying bad things, Mr Bray had felt as if it was impossible for him to believe him, but after that incident in Venice and the recent news of the police report he'd begun to have doubts. He'd started to wonder, what _had _Alex been doing. Not that he hadn't speculated, they all had, in their coffee breaks and Staff Meetings. Yet, he'd always thoughts it was being exaggerated, that Alex really was pretty much the same boy who'd first entered his school, that he'd just been sick.

The boy in front of him, was definitely that Alex Rider. In fact, it was a stretch to even call him a boy. This angry figure who stood in his office, practically spitting down the phone in his anger could hardly be called that.

He tuned back into the conversation, fascinated in this Alex Rider, who was so unlike the one he'd gotten to know through brief meetings and reports.

"How. Dare. You." Alex was yelling. "I can't _believe _you. I thought we had a deal." He waved expressively, furiously pacing the small office. "I go through all this _crap_ for you. In fact, you really owe me, for what I've done for you, for everyone. And this is how you repay me? What's stopping me from just leaving? Oh that's right, you're _psychopaths_!"

Mr Bray felt quite unable to comprehend the conversation in front of him.

"_What do you mean you'll explain later_?" Alex's voice was laced with venom and he glared at the floor as he listened to the reply.

"Well you can tell Mrs Jones to-" Mrs Jones? So Alex was talking to the woman on the phone earlier. Mr Bray had felt very intimidated and out of his depth as he talked to the woman's whose crisp replies sounded like ice. She'd been professionally polite, sort of, but had felt very condescending and impatient too. She hadn't seemed like the type of person you could yell at. Alex however, had just crudely insulted her and told whoever was on the phone to pass the message on. Alex, Mr Bray thought, was either really brave or so mad he didn't care what he said. Perhaps a combination.

"Absolutely not. I'm staying right where I am!" Alex exclaimed.

"You're crazy right? You do know I'm pissed off and have no qualms breaking everything I come across." Mr Bray feared for his office, even if he wasn't the one Alex was mad at. Right? He looked mad at pretty much everything right now.

Mr Bray had dealt with troubled and emotionally volatile teens before, it came with the territory. However, he'd never seen any of them look as unpredictable and dangerous as Alex Rider did in that moment. His entire body was tensed, his posture screamed deadly as he practically _stalked _around the room.

Suddenly, however, the entire tone of the conversation changed. Alex's face smoothed out and he looked eerily calm, abruptly finishing his pacing in the middle of the room and going into what practically looked like a trance he was so unnaturally serene and still. The phone was still pressed to his ear and when Alex spoke it was quietly, almost a whisper.

"I will see you in an hour. And there will be no compromise." It was as if each word was punctuated with ice. Mr Bray felt a shiver go up his spine as he listened to Alex's cold voice.

The snap of the phone as it shut, almost made Mr Bray jump out of his seat in fright, as it was, he gave a start and shook himself, stealing his mind to look Alex in the eyes.

"Sir." The word was abrupt. "I'm going now. I'm afraid I don't know if I'll be at school tomorrow, this obviously makes everything very complicated." And without another word he left the office.

It was only when the door had slammed and Alex's retreating footsteps had disappeared that Mr Bray finally managed to move. He shook his head, fully aware of the fact that he shouldn't have allowed Alex to leave, but really, what could he have done.

-X-

Alex sat on the Tube, nerves jangling as he waited for his stop. He was just so angry, it was controlling his body, every moment he sat here felt like a moment wasted.

He still wasn't positive what exactly had triggered all this, but he knew the second he stepped into the presence of the MI6 Heads, fireworks were going to explode.

**A/N: An update! Sorry it was a little late. **

**I'm not too sure about this chapter, so please tell me what you think. For one thing, it's a bit slow moving and there isn't much light and shade. Or well, not much light. Alex just didn't want to be written and I switched over to Mr Bray. Not too sure how that worked out.**

**Anyway, don't worry if you're confused! That was supposed to happen.**

**I'd just like to say ,everyone's support is amazing. 56 reviews for 5 chapters, you guys are so awesome! Hope everyone has a great holiday! Give me a review as a present? **


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Please read Author's note at the bottom after reading. :)**

-X-

The Royal and General Bank stood looming over Alex as he pushed open the glass doors. He stared irritably at the nearest person in uniform, who was on the phone. Luckily for her, she finished her call before Alex reached the desk.

"Tell Blunt and Mrs Jones I'm here. They're expecting me." He practically snarled at her.

The staff at the Royal and General were all quite used to dangerous people walking into their lobby. They'd all heard the stories too, of the young boy who went up the top floor, who'd been shot at the doorstop. This particularly secretary was a veteran. She'd worked at the desk for ten years. She had never, however, seen anyone so young looking quite so deadly and quickly allowed Alex use of the MI6 elevator.

Alex was almost disappointed it had been that easy. Better though, he decided, to save all his energy for the real targets of his wrath.

As the elevator dinged, Alex stepped out into the carpeted hallway. Normally, this was the part where he dragged his feet, unwilling to go to his personal doom sooner than absolutely necessary. This time however, his steps were quick and light as he almost ran to the dreaded door.

He didn't open it with a bang, theatrics only looked cool in movies after all. He wanted to be seen as mature. That is, mature enough to yell at them and not be told calmly that they knew best. Instead, he walked calmly (alright maybe he stalked a little bit), through the door and into the room.

Alan Blunt and Tulip Jones, who was for once _not _sucking on a peppermint, stared at him.

"Right." Alex declared firmly. "I want answers and I want them now. Don't dodge the questions, tell me, truthfully, if you _can," _He added snidely. "What exactly was going through your moronic minds when you deported Jack."

"Now Alex," started Mrs Jones gently, but a look from Blunt shut her up and he turned his glare onto Alex.

"As the protectors of this country," He began," It is our duty to perform to the best of our ability. If we don't, people die. It was decided, that you, as one of our greatest, ah, assets, need to be at the best performance level possible. It has been decided that to be at your best you need to be, unattached, so to speak. You can't have people close to you in this business, they will be used against you."

His voice was dull and monotonous, the tone unchanging. Uncaring.

Alex was currently wishing very hard that looks really could kill, if so he was positive the glare he was giving Blunt would have murdered him on the spot. How dare he say that Jack was a liability! She was the one of the only slices of normal he had left! And now she was gone, removed like an unimportant chess piece in the game of his life. A pawn in a game of pawns. Controlled by the people sitting in front of him.

Well, he was sick of it. Sick of being used and manipulated by MI6. With Jack gone, what did they have to keep him under their control? They'd already broken their promise not have Jack deported. He'd done what they wanted, but it seemed, he'd done his job too well. One of their best _assets,_ indeed. Why, Alex wondered, did life seem to hate him so much?

"Well," He began slowly, picking his words carefully. "If Jack is gone now, I don't think I will be working for you any longer. Obviously, there is no one left in this country worth saving."

"Alex," Mrs Jones stood from where she had been sitting at the end of the desk and came towards him. He stood still, unsure of what she meant to do. "I'm afraid there is a bit more to discuss." She pushed him gently but firmly towards the chair beside hers. While he childishly shook her hand off his shoulder, he sat quietly, knowing there was little else to do. He was angry not delusional.

"Yes," Blunt began, still speaking as if he was partaking in a particularly tedious conversation about the weather. "Obviously, there is the matter of where you are going to stay, now that Miss Starbright is in America."

"Well, this is your fault isn't it?" Alex couldn't help but exclaim. "If you hadn't deported her we wouldn't even be having this conversation!"

Blunt simply stared at him for a moment before he resumed speaking.

"There are several options. You can go to a Boys Home. It will be a nice one, we'll even arrange for you to continue to attend your school and when we need you we'll simply take you out. All the details will be arranged. Mr Crawley has also agreed that an arrangement could be made for you to stay with him. Or you can stay with Mrs Jones."

Alex stared at them, those were his options? They all sounded like torture, in fact, Alex would _rather_ have _been_ water boarded or strung up above crocodiles, than live with any of the options presented.

"What about Mr Smithers?" He asked desperately. "Or Ben Daniels?"

"I'm afraid Alex," said Mrs Jones, "That is out of the question."

Alex glared at her, his stomach churning with bile.

"So I have to pick out of you, Mr Creep and Crawley or a bunch of strangers who will no doubt hate me?" Alex was horrified to feel the prickly feeling out tears threatening to spill onto his cheeks and he hurriedly faced away from the two MI6 Heads, until he'd gained control of himself.

"There aren't any other options." Blunt said gruffly.

"And you just expect me to decide NOW? What about the house? What about school tomorrow? Do I have to have a babysitter tonight?" A brilliant thought struck him. "In fact, why can't I just be emancipated?"

"Because Alex," Mrs Jones started tentatively. "You really aren't old enough to live on your own."

Alex snorted, read; we need you under our control.

"Besides, you have no money. It's in trust, with us." Ah, now it was a subtle reminder of exactly who was in charge. Well, Alex decided, he wasn't going down without a fight. If they wanted to make him live with one of their lackeys (or the Head Lackey), he was going to fight them every step of the way, kicking, screaming, biting, scratching and whatever else it took.

"No." He said.

"I'm sorry?" Alex was surprised, was that a tinge of _emotion _in Blunt's normally droning voice?

"You heard me, I said no." Alex was having quite a bit of fun with this, apparently people, especially teenage boys, didn't tell them no very often. Well, Alex smirked inwardly, it was about time someone said it.

"Alex, there isn't another option here." Mrs Jones said, exasperated.

"Yes," Alex retorted. "There is. I say no. And I have. And I will continue to do so until you morons leave me alone. Clear?"

"Now Alex-" Blunt began, but was cut off as Alex stood up.

"No! You've treated me like cattle since the moment I stepped through these doors after my Uncle died. You've put me in danger so many times. I've killed people for you! And this is how you repay me for saving the world. You ruin my life! You take it away it bits and pieces, _closing ties,_ making me lose people, until suddenly I have no one but you. Until I'm dependant," He sneered. "On you. I won't have it anymore. I'm not a child, you keep putting me in adult situations so you can at least treat me like one. You can't control me like this. What if I fail a mission, hey? What if I _die?_ I know you don't have a conscience but let me say this. One day, you will get what is coming to you and when you do I will laugh. I will laugh so hard they will hear me in Australia _and _The Bermuda Triangle. I will laugh so hard I will probably be admitted into an Asylum, but it won't matter, because you will be _gone._"

Mrs Jones looked sufficiently shocked but Blunt remained impassive. Well, momentarily. He then deigned to lift an eyebrow, as if unimpressed by Alex's rant. Alex stared at them both for a moment, before shaking his head and leaving the room.

Before the door slammed shut behind him, Alex heard Blunt's voice.

"You have tonight to decide Alex, but tomorrow you _will_ move in with someone. It's the law."

-X-

When Alex reached his Chelsea home it looked the same as when he had left in the morning. It seemed years away. Jack wasn't at the grocery store, she wasn't coming home and apologising for letting him sleep in. She was _gone._ Suddenly, Alex felt intensely lonely, it was an ache is his heart, a sort of emptiness that surrounded him. The house felt very big and silent. Empty. Alex felt overcome by the events of the day. He walked almost blindly to his room and sank onto the bed, cradling his head in his hands.

Sure, he'd stood up to MI6, but he knew he wouldn't be getting Jack back. In the heat of the moment, Alex could say no, but in the long term how could he possibly?

But what could he do when all of his options sounded like things that came only from his darkest nightmares?

Alex sat there for a long time, mulling over the options in his mind. It wasn't until the lights on the alarm clock beside his bed changed to 8:00 that he finally came out of his trance. He blinked rapidly, he hadn't noticed how dark it had gotten and turned on the light. He was starving, he'd had very little breakfast and no lunch at all.

Tiredly, Alex stood to make himself some dinner, wishing Jack was there with him. He settled on making a sandwich and set about getting the ingredients and putting two slices of bread in the toaster. We really do need to go grocery shopping, Alex caught himself thinking before shaking the thought out of his head. No, tomorrow he probably wouldn't even live here any more and there was no 'we', to think about.

As he sat down at the table, sandwich in front of him, he noticed a sticky note on the cabinet in front of him. Curious, he walked around the table and took it down, staring at the words on it.

_Alex,_

_I'm sorry. I'll always love you and miss you._

_Jack_

Obviously, he'd overlooked it in the morning, Alex thought.

Suddenly though he was angry. Just a note. A few words. No explanation. No contact address. Just, 'I'm sorry'. Why hadn't Jack woken him up to him she was going? Why hadn't he noticed people in the house? Or her room? Her things had still been there in the morning when he'd checked, he was sure he would have noticed the stripped room. Why hadn't Jack put up more of a fuss? Said goodbye?

In a fit of anger Alex kicked the chair in front of him, sending it sprawling to the ground.

Why was it that everybody left him?

**A/N: Ok, so I have a question! Would you like Alex to go to a Boy's Home of live with Mrs Jones? I have a plane trip to plan either one on Thursday, so tell me which you'd prefer! (Crawley isn't as interesting so I'm just saying, let's skip him). Let me know whom'd you would prefer (even if it is the lesser of two evils, because yes, I'm being pretty mean to Alex right now.) **

**And, thank you guys so much for all the amazing reviews I've gotten so far, they've been awesome! I can't promise when I'll next update as I'll be in New Zealand and will have to borrow other people's computers… but, I promise the chapters will come after that, I can plan on paper after all!**

**Again, thanks so much for all your support and tell me what you think!**


	8. Chapter 8

When Alex woke up the next morning, he had a few moments of peaceful slumber-induced grogginess where he had absolutely no thoughts at all except that he was lying in a warm bed and was vaguely hungry. Sadly, reality kicked in quickly and he was left with a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Sighing, Alex spent another few minutes enjoying the comfort that was his own bed. After all, if MI6 got their way he wouldn't be seeing it for quite some time, if ever. Annoyed at the thought interrupting what should be a peaceful morning of not wanting to go to school, Alex rolled over to look at his clock.

7:20, it declared proudly in glowing green letters.

Technically he could still easily go to school. It might even be nice; to lose himself in the mind numbing boredom that was his routine. He did not, however, wish to be in any way unprepared when MI6 came. Why waste his day sitting at a desk when he could be planning? Well that, and the fact that even teenage spies occasionally feel like skipping. Alex raised an eyebrow at his own comment, as the only teenage spy, he set the precedent for, well, himself to follow.

It took several minutes of internal dialogue for Alex to finally decide on a course of action for the day. The only thing at school for him was normality and Tom. His normality was going out the window anyway, so that only left Tom. Tom, his closest friend. Tom, who knew his identity as a teenage spy. Tom, who he might never see again.

That settled it; he'd have to go, if only to give Tom the dignity of hearing the goodbye in person.

Alex half-heartedly put his books in his schoolbag, feeling both morose and frustrated. This whole deal just seemed so ridiculous. Why was it that he seemed to have the worst luck on the planet? He'd been through so many identities and so many guardians that he was beginning to feel like an old sock, being tossed around because nobody wanted it. He knew he was being unfair, but one had to admit, the record wasn't looking very good.

After he'd finished his breakfast Alex gave one last glance at the note Jack had left, and then, quickly, slipped it into his pocket. It might not be much and he might be furious with her, but it was the only goodbye he had. He wasn't going to waste it.

He cycled to school automatically, only one part of his mind actually watching for traffic. The other half was determinedly thinking up different ways to murder the MI6 Heads. His favourites included the Tudor period's punishment for treason involving being hanged, drawn and quartered, along with putting the Heads in his _own _missions and seeing if they came out alive. He sincerely doubted it.

He didn't see Tom until his English class, but when he did he found he could hardly make eye contact. It was one thing to be out of school for long periods of time, another to be leaving altogether. Sure, he thought he could recall Blunt saying he could continue to attend Brookland, but he found that extremely hard to believe. Since when had Blunt ever made good on his promises to Alex?

"Alex?" What's wrong?" Tom finally asked as they made their way out of English side by side.

"I-" Alex stopped, unsure of what to say. He'd been so busy pushing the matter of Tom to the back of his mind that he hadn't gotten anywhere on what he was supposed to say to him.

"Yeah?" Tom prompted, a frown creasing his forehead. He lowered his voice, "Is it MI6? Are you going on another mission?"

"Not exactly." Replied Alex, but he didn't elaborate.

Annoyed, Tom glared at him.

"Alex, you've been acting weird all morning, stop being so evasive and just answer me already!" He looked ready to start yelling again when Alex quickly answered.

"Fine." He said flatly.

"And that's not all- wait, what?" Tom asked, confused. "What do you mean fine?"

"MI6 has decided to change my guardianship." Explained Alex, pursing his lips. "They sent Jack back to America and now I can either go live with one of their minions, live with the Deputy Head or go to a Boy's Home."

Tom gaped at him in shock.

"What!" He exclaimed, "Can they do that? Is that even _legal_? I- Oh Alex. Man, that _sucks_! How can they send you to a Boy's Home anyway, don't you have to be adopted or fostered or something?"

Alex shook his head sharply.

"MI6 is a law unto themselves. I don't know how they can get away with anything. But they do and it's me who suffers. I guess I'm just lucky they don't declare me dead and send me off to the SAS or something."

"Gosh, Alex." Tom seemed appropriately sympathetic, but unable to come up with much in the way of reply. After all, what could he say when faced with such a depressing tale? It was like most things in life, once you've said the polite exchanged in the social norm, things just become exceedingly awkward. Tom was not, however, going to let this stop him from being a good friend.

"You know you can always come stay at my house right? I mean, Mum and Dad just yell and throw things at each other but they're still technically guardians and they wouldn't care. I doubt they'd even notice!"

Alex gave him a small smile but shook his head.

"You're a good friend Tom Harris." He replied, "But I think this is something I'll just have to solve on my own."

Tom couldn't help but feel like Alex had just told him something very important, but he couldn't put his finger on what, exactly.

-X-

The rest of the day seemed to pass by in a strange blur for Alex. After telling Tom about the situation he had pretty much retreated into himself and finished school on autopilot. While outwardly it appeared as if he was in a state of dazed numbness, inside he was planning his next move. Alex wanted to have a plan. Even if it would be screwed up immediately, every precaution he took would only be to his advantage. He wasn't going to make this easy on MI6, after all. While his pity party had been fine for the morning, he was going to be prepared for the evening's confrontation if it killed him.

Which it almost did, Alex reflected, as he swerved around yet another pedestrian walking in the bike lane. What part of a shared pathway, did they not understand?

When he pulled up at his Chelsea house he paused for a moment before walking in, taking in the painted door and brass knocker, the shrubs underneath the windows and the curtains hanging in them. Then he gathered his courage and went inside.

It was just as he had left it; Alex could see no sign of any unwanted MI6 agents having been inside. He knew he should probably start packing, but he couldn't bring himself to. Why should he be in the least bit compliant with MI6's demands? No, he decided, he wasn't going to pack until somebody knocked down the door and made him. Instead he did the only reasonable thing one could do while waiting for impending doom. He made himself a snack and curled up on the couch with a book.

Some time later, Alex was interrupted from skimming the pages by a knock on the front door. Alex was surprised that they hadn't just barged in. They did it with everything else in his life.

Sighing he stood up, put the book down pages first on the coffee table, even though he knew it was bad habit and would damage the spine and went to get the door.

Behind it was John Crawley, along with two other people with faces almost as forgettable as Crawley's own. He supposed it went with the job.

"Alex." Crawley spoke in his usual nasal tone. "May we come in?"

Alex supressed a sneer and instead opened the door only a fraction. Sure, they could but he was NOT prepared to be polite about it. He turned away from the door, expecting they would follow. They did.

He led them to the living room but lounged against one wall instead of sitting down. Crawley looked flustered for a moment before sitting on the couch uninvited. The two men followed his lead. Alex noted ironically that all three of them were dressed in black.

"So, Alex," Crawley began. "I assume you're packed and ready to leave?"

Alex gave the man a flat glance, trying to convey with his eyes just how utterly stupid he thought that question had been. Crawley cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Well," He continued, "Why don't you, ah, go do that now? Just, you know, pack as if you were going on a long holiday." Alex's unimpressed gaze bored into Crawley until he shifted on the couch.

"What about the house? The furniture? The things I can't fit in a suitcase?" Asked Alex, sneering slightly. Crawley really rubbed him the wrong way.

"We'll arrange everything Alex. There's no need to worry. This is for your own good, you know." Crawley said, trying to placate Alex.

"Right," Replied Alex, unbelievingly. "_My _own good."

"Now Alex-" Crawley began but was cut off by Alex abruptly leaving the room. Crawley's jaw worked for a moment before he signalled one the agents to follow Alex.

Alex made his way up to his room a lot more upset than he had anticipated. He'd thought, rationally, that he had accepted his fate and could control himself, but instead he felt that he was burning up inside with righteous fury. He felt the need to let loose and just hit someone, preferably Crawley, though logically he knew it wouldn't get him anywhere. It was perhaps this fiery determination and refusal to just lie down and take things that made Alex such a good spy but it wasn't going to help him at all in this situation.

He was interrupted from his thoughts by one of the nameless agents coming into his room.

"Yes?" Alex snapped impatiently.

"I was just wondering if you needed any help?" The man asked in a deep baritone. He looked, Alex thought, strangely sincere.

"Not from you." He replied shortly and began to pick up his belongings.

It was hard to decide what to bring. He'd had a lifetime, after all, to accumulate all the things in his room, from his football posters to a ball of now hard slime he'd made several years ago. He realised now that through his stubbornness he had made things a lot harder for himself. In the end though he did as Crawley suggested and packed as he would on a holiday, favourite clothes, some books, his iPod, then added a couple of things like his posters and photographs.

He didn't feel sad exactly, as he packed under the gaze of the watching MI6 agent, but rather angry and numb. His quick, jerky movements attesting to the fact. He went through the house to grab what he'd missed, snagging his toiletries from the bathroom and keys from where he'd left them. Then he went back to the living room where Crawley was still sitting, conversing with the other agent in low tones.

"What about my bike?" Alex demanded. He loved his bike, and it was one of his last reminders of Ian. He wouldn't let it go without a fight.

Crawley blinked at him, as if he had forgotten Alex existed at all and was merely in his office discussing how to ruin some other guy's life.

"Well, Alex, I'm sure everything can be worked out with your new guardian. We can always put it in storage."

Alex nodded slowly and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well," He began, "I'm ready to leave."

"Of course, Alex. We'll leave for the Bank immediately. But if you don't mind me asking, did you choose where to go? I'm sure we'd get along quite well if you come live with me."

Alex raised both eyebrows, extremely sceptical.

"Look, while I sort of appreciate the offer, I don't think that's going to happen."

"Where have you decided to go, then?" Asked Crawley.

"Well," Alex replied. "I'm certainly not going to live under Mrs Jones' thumb until I finish school. Why you people thought _that _was a viable option is completely beyond me. I'll take a Home over her any day." He said this with the air of someone who was patiently explaining something very simple to a child and Crawley looked faintly insulted.

"Ok then, Alex." Crawley replied, sounding a bit disappointed. "Let's go tell the Heads that."

**A/N: Sorry for the slow update but I've been very busy! And I had a lot of trouble with Alex's characterisation.**

**Thank you guys so much for all the reviews. I really appreciate the input and there were some really persuasive arguments for both sides. I hope the plot I settled on will make everyone happy. You'll just have to keep reading to see what it is though!**

**Next chapter we shall have another lovely confrontation with MI6 and the Boy's Home will be introduced. Please review and tell me what you think!**


	9. Chapter 9

After an extremely tense and silent car ride, Alex and Crawley were finally in front of the door leading to Alex's impending doom. Crawley glanced at him nervously, fidgeting with his tie until it was more lopsided than it had been before. Alex stared at him coldly. For an MI6 agent the man was terribly transparent, rather pathetic too if he could be intimidated so easily by a teenage boy. When it became apparent that Crawley was more likely to faint than open the door Alex sighed and pushed it open himself. Waiting around on the landing would only make him seem like a scared child – or Crawley, neither of which was an attractive option.

Blunt ad Mrs Jones were sitting at the far end of the table, their eyes focused directly on Alex as he entered the room.

"Ah, Alex!" Began Mrs Jones "I hope-"

"Let's just get this over with." Alex interrupted impatiently. He wasn't interested in pleasantries and platitudes; he wanted to get this over with. Now.

"Well-" Mrs Jones began again but stopped at the hand her superior raised.

"No Tulip, I agree. Let's hear what he has to say." Said Blunt quite firmly.

"I'll go to the Boy's Home." He said abruptly. Hard and fast, Alex had decided, was the way to do it. Just like ripping off a Band-Aid. After all, it wasn't like he cared if he hurt Mrs Jones' feelings. Alex greatly suspected she didn't have many anyway. It came with the job. His theory seemed to be right too, as he looked at the Heads to find that their faces registered neither surprise nor real interest. He supposed it didn't really matter to them, as long as their weapon was stored somewhere and ready to be taken out whenever, did it really matter where it was kept? Then again, many teenage boys had the same philosophy about their clothes and that never seemed to work out well.

"Alright Alex, if that's what you want." Mrs Jones replied after a few moments of silence that seemed to stretch on forever. "I'm sure Mr Crawley will take you there. If you don't like it you can always come live with me." Alex gave her a look that told her quite clearly what he thought of that suggestion.

"I have a couple of questions." He began, "For one thing, what school will I go to now? And also, what's going to happen to the house? You can't just leave it there, it still got electronics and furniture and food. I know you people are arrogant bastards, but surely you aren't stupid enough to think I'm going to let you sell it either."

Blunt raised an eyebrow but continued to stay silent. Alex hoped it was because he had a sore throat that would eventually turn into some kind of nasty tropical disease and kill him. It would serve him right, after all. Mrs Jones however, didn't seem to have any qualms in answering Alex's questions.

"I'm afraid you won't be going to Brookland anymore Alex. It's not near your new home, but I'm sure you can still meet with your friends on weekends as we're keeping you in London. You'll go to the local school, like the rest of the boys. No need to make you stick out. As for the house, everything will be put into storage and if you consent we will either sell it or rent it out."

"Although," Interrupted Blunt, whose voice seemed to be just fine. Well, if you could call someone who sounded like you could run over their cat and they would still sound like they were talking about a particularly boring maths problem fine. "We don't need your consent really. As your legal guardians we are well within our rights to sell the house if necessary.

"Fabulous." Alex muttered under his breath. Just another way MI6 could screw around with his life. He'd never had much of a childhood, not really, but it seemed as though he'd next get one.

"Well," Crawley cleared his throat uncomfortably, shifting from foot to foot. "I suppose we should really get going, Alex. It's a bit of a drive with all this traffic."

For once Alex decided not to argue. He nodded sharply, turned, and walked out of the room. Crawley stood there for a moment, blinking owlishly at the MI6 Heads who stared back, unsurprised, before following Alex out the door.

-X-

Alex stared up at the sign above the brick building, which declared DULWICH CARE in black letters. As he followed Crawley into the lobby Alex took in his surroundings. They were actually sort of nice. White walls, beige carpet, several potted plants, and a smiling lady waiting to greet them. A friendly, if impersonal atmosphere.

"Hi!" she said, speaking directly to Alex. "You must be Alex. I'm Emma." He shook her hand politely and glanced back at Crawley, who gave him what was most likely meant to be an encouraging smile. Alex thought he looked a bit ill. Maybe it was because his face wasn't meant to move that way.

"It's nice to meet you." He smiled at her, it wasn't, after all, her he was -permanently- mad at. Pleased by his positive response, which Alex supposed she didn't get from many teenagers, Emma started to chatter. She began to lead them into another room off the side, which looked to be a common room.

There were several rather worn looking couches, a long table and a TV in one corner. A couple of boys were lying on the ground watching it, while more inhabited the couches. They looked up when Emma entered the room, Alex trailing along behind her.

"Everyone," Emma declared. "This is Alex. He's fourteen." Then she turned to Alex and continued, "Go on and introduce yourself, Mr Crawley and I will get everything sorted and then I'll come get you."

Deciding to approach this new situation head on, Alex strode confidently towards the group of boys.

"Hi," he said, grinning casually. "I'm Alex." There were a couple of nods and hellos but no one seemed inclined to take the lead. Alex took the opportunity to observe them; there were several older than him, while the youngest looked to be about ten years old. All in all there were about twenty boys. Alex knew that the people in front of him were the drifters; some would stay here for a matter of weeks, some months and some, like Alex would probably be stuck here until they were eighteen. Technically, Alex could be adopted but he doubted MI6 would let that happen. After all, if he was adopted it meant another person in on their dirty little secret. The whole point of Jack leaving was so that he would have no attachments.

After several moments of rather awkward silence and not-so-furtive glances, one boy who looked around Alex's age spoke up.

"I'm Trent." He said, holding out his hand, "I guess we'll be roommates."

Suddenly it was as if the tension was broken, everyone began introducing himself at once and Alex tried to pay close attention, but felt himself get distracted. Crawley was standing at the doorway, apparently done talking with Emma and was watching him. Alex broke away from the gaggle of boys surrounding him and walked over.

"Well, Alex." Said Crawley. "Emma can explain everything from here. The Bank will be in touch soon."

"I'm so happy to hear that." Alex muttered sarcastically. "Fills my heart with joy."

Crawley ignored his comment in favour if patting him awkwardly on the shoulder.

"Stay out of trouble, and all that." He said. As he walked away, Alex couldn't help but think that he had really dodged a bullet not living with Crawley. The man seemed to be a mess. Alex shook the thoughts out of his head, he didn't want to know and it was none of his business anyway.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. Emma explained he'd be starting school fresh on Monday, so he had a bit less than a week with which to settle in and get himself into the routine. She ran the basic schedule by him, breakfast and dinner were eaten together, homework was done before dinner and free time afterwards. The TV was a shared object and as such, what was watched had to be voted on. Weekends were free, but they had to sign out before leaving and check with Emma. Emma and another lady who everyone apparently called Ms P were in charge of the house and ran things like chores and daily activities.

He followed Trent to their room, and found it to be reasonably spacious, if quite messy and unremarkable. Both boys had a desk and chair, a bed and a dresser. The bathroom, Trent explained, was communal and at the end of the hallway.

Alex set about unpacking, his stomach clenching, though with what, he didn't know. He allowed himself to move automatic and unthinkingly, keeping his mind in a state of numbing blankness.

Dinner was loud and boisterous, the boys all yelled (not talked) over each other in an effort to be heard. While Alex found the noise to be very irritating, the food was good and the atmosphere comfortable. It was interesting, thought Alex, to watch the way the boys interacted. They seemed very comfortable with each other, yet very competitive. They were just like most of the teenagers Alex knew from Brookland. And yet… not.

While Alex had never really been in a home environment that was anywhere near typical he could see small differences and missing things. For example, Emma as the only adult figure was overpowered. Instead, the boys had their own hierarchy. The eldest went first and they worked their way down the table in age order. As the kid, of course, Alex would normally be at the bottom of the pile, however these boys ignored normal social settings and out him with his age group. Alex wasn't sure if this was some kind of threat assessment, but it certainly intrigued him.

There were other little things too, like the experienced way a couple of the boys would throw things or handle their knives, even. Stupid, weird, little things Alex couldn't help but pick up on.

Before they went to bed, he and Trent talked about their football team and hobbies. Trent liked movies, car races and he played on the school cricket team. These were all superficial facts of course, but Alex though they could get along quite well.

It was after the lights went out –curfew on weekdays was ten for the older boys- and everything was silent that Alex's thoughts began invading his mind again.

The sounds of the room weren't the same. He could hear the drunken people who walked by the window, instead of only the distant roar of cars. The were people whispering in the next room, instead of Jack's annoying pacing. There was the sound of breathing and rustle of sheets near him, instead of only the tick of the clock on the landing. As minute as these changes were, out of everything that he'd experience that day, those noises were what really struck him.

This wasn't his house, this wasn't a dream and Jack wouldn't be there in the morning to tell him he was late for school. She was _gone._

Everything about his life had changed so quickly, his home, his friends, his school, his guardian and older sister. All of them, out of his grasp. And even as he thought about, more than a little choked up, his stomach in a perpetually nervous state he felt terribly idiotic. He was so affected by all of this, when he'd seen so many people with lives so much worse than his own. At least he wasn't living on the streets, wondering when his next meal would come or taking care of a sick parent and seven younger siblings. He'd seen the documentaries in school and here he was, almost crying because his life had been torn to pieces.

This could be a new beginning, a chance to get away from all the stuff at his old school. He could make this a new chapter, a better one. If only he could just keep MI6 away and be normal.

Still, he knew the perfect way to keep himself distracted from just how awful his life had gotten. Plotting the downfall of MI6.

**A/N: Um, so hi! I know, I'm horrible, I should have updated sooner and I can tell you a million reasons I didn't but… let's just get into the interesting stuff shall we?**

**Not sure how this chapter went, I was sick today and I just thought to myself, this is the perfect time to write another chapter. I looked through the reviews and all the people who have alerted me (you're all awesome) and I just wrote it.**

**Here's the good news, break is coming up and I should be able to get a couple of chapters written. So: tell me what you think, questions, comments, critiques all welcome!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: And yet more angst and drama with a tiny bit of humour! Yay!**

As Alex rolled out of bed that morning, he decided he really, really didn't want to be alive right now. The reason for his discomfort had been lurking in his mind since he'd arrived but had come out kicking yesterday; today he was starting his new school. And, Alex thought, with the experiences he'd had at his last one you could hardly blame him for being a little bit wary!

So here he was, 7 am and wide awake, dodging flying food and curses from the other boys as he tried to get ready for the day. The uniform was just as ugly and unflattering as any other uniform but Alex was grateful for it. It was one more thing that would help him to blend in with the rest of the masses. The last thing he wanted at this school was to draw attention to himself. Alex couldn't help but snort at the thought, after all, when had things ever gone his way?

Alex was half shoved, half hurled unceremoniously into the van as the boys shouldered each other into the vehicle. He ended up squashed between Trent and a boy called Darren who was the same age. They spent the entire ride arguing over which teacher they found more attractive. Personally, Alex found thinking of teachers like that extremely wrong and was happy to tune out their conversation. This, of course, left him to his thoughts and the butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. You'd think of course that an internationally renowned teenage spy wouldn't be nervous about starting a new school but it was true. Alex _was _just a little bit terrified.

Maybe it was because he didn't have a mission. There was no objective, no finish, and no light at the end of the tunnel where he would go back to normality. No, this school was going to be his second home for the next few years and if he screwed it up there was no backup option. Well there was, Alex conceded to his thoughts, but he wasn't about to go there.

As they pulled up to the school gates Alex noticed his palms were a bit sweaty and he hastily wiped them on his grey slacks, then felt ridiculous. It was only school. This wasn't life or death. But maybe, a little voice whispered in the far reaches of his mind, maybe this is going to prove that you really can't be a normal teenage boy. Alex squashed the thought hurriedly. He was finally getting what he wanted. Sure, he didn't have any parents or relatives or even any friends but he wasn't about to go put his life on the line for millions of ungrateful people. So why did he feel like he was?

Trent pulled him from his stupor with a slap on the back.

"Alex man, come on. I'll show you to the office."

Alex smiled at him gratefully. Trent, at that moment, was the most amazing person in the entire world. Happy at least, that Trent wasn't too embarrassed to be seen with him Alex followed him to the office. The lady that greeted them was had grey hair and tired looking eyes that gave Alex a sudden pang of longing for Miss Bedfordshire and her bright smiles and perky attitude.

A cursory comparison of schedules showed that Trent and Alex had several classes together, but not first period. He was however near the same roll class and was able to show Alex the way. To get to first period however it would be just Alex and the tiny map in the back of the school issued diary, unless he could find someone to guide him as Trent's first class lay in the opposite direction.

He made his way into the classroom labelled 216 with a sense of foreboding in the pit of his stomach. This was it. He hoped the teacher wouldn't make him introduce himself but it was very likely. He had, after all, transferred in midyear.

Sure enough, the teacher, a Mr Maloney asked Alex to stand up and tell him 'where he came from and some hobbies if you please.' Alex didn't please, but he knew it wasn't actually optional. Deciding to be as uncooperative as possible he gritted out.

"Alex. Not from here. Football." The teacher looked somewhat put out, but made no comment.

"So Alex," said the girl next to him, "Are you any good at football?" She was twirling a strand of brown hair around her finger, her head cocked to one side.

Nonplussed, Alex stared at her for a few moments, before nodding curtly.

"You should try out for the team. If you're good I'm sure they'll still take you." She continued.

He gave another curt nod, hoping she would take that an answer and conversation ender. However, she didn't seem to get the hint.

"So, do you have any other hobbies?" She asked, seemingly bent on making the five minutes before the next period a game of twenty questions.

"Not really." Alex half grunted. Why couldn't she just get the hint?

"Oh, well, have you ever tried cooking?"

Confused, Alex looked up. Why would she care if he tried cooking? In fact, why would anyone even mention that? It didn't seem very normal. But that wasn't exactly fair, what would he know about normal.

She leant in towards him, her hair brushing his cheek as she whispered in his ear.

"I think men who cook are totally hot."

Cheeks pink, Alex put his head on the desk. Why did girls have to be so weird?

Three uncomfortable minutes later the bell rang for the beginning of first period and Alex set off down a crowded hallway to find classroom 319 for English with Mrs Gamage.

He did, eventually find it, but he was just late enough that everyone turned to stare at him when he entered the classroom. Then, when they didn't recognise him, continued to stare as he took the only spare seat he could find in the last seat on the right in the front row.

"Ah," Mrs Gamage smiled at him; peering from beneath small glasses perched on the end of her nose. "You must be Mr Rider. Welcome to English." He nodded to her in reply but decided not to say anything. It was easy to slip under the radar when people didn't hear you speak.

"Ok class, now take out your copies of Hamlet and start reading where we left off." Mrs Gamage instructed, leaving Alex with a bit of a problem.

Alex didn't have a copy of Hamlet and he knew he'd have to put up his hand and tell her or else hope she would notice. He sat there for a few moments, turning pleading eyes on Mrs Gamage's form as she made her way back to her desk and sat down.

Maybe if he just stuck his hand up? Luckily, that did the trick and Alex was told to summarise what he'd done in English this year so far and to borrow a copy from the school library as soon as possible.

When the bell rang for the end of the lesson Alex mentally patted himself on the back for a drama free first period and headed to his next subject, chemistry.

Trent and Darren who had saved him a seat in between them greeted him. As the teacher hadn't come in yet Trent smiled at him.

"How was your first period at our beloved high school?" He enquired.

"Yeah." Said Alex. "It was fine. Really." He added, at Trent's raised eyebrow. Darren too looked almost shocked but made an 'mhmm' noise in the back of his throat.

"Seriously?" Asked Trent, "No one beat you up or called you names or anything?"

"No…" Alex frowned at him; "You make it sound like you were expecting that to happen."

"Well, we kinda were." Trent replied and Alex raised his eyebrows at Darren who put his arms up defensively.

"No offence dude." Said Darren, "But that stuff is pretty normal here."

"It can't be any worse than my old school." Alex replied and left it at that as the teacher walked into the classroom.

The chemistry lesson was really not very exciting, it was a theory lesson and Alex studiously read the chapter and answered the questions along with everyone else, before finally filing out of the classroom, trailing behind Trent and Darren.

The two boys headed to a grass oval where several people Alex didn't know hailed them down. Beckoning Alex to join them, Trent and Darren sat with them and pulled out their apples. Sighing, Alex pulled out his own and tried for a friendly smile for the curious people around him.

"Guys," Trent introduced, "This is Alex. He's new to the Home. He's my new roomie."

The boys nodded and left off staring at Alex to eat their own lunch and converse among themselves.

Alex decided he quite liked them.

-X-

It was at lunch that something actually happened and it made Alex wish he wasn't such an idiot.

He had been sitting on the grass with Darren and Trent when a couple of other boys had come up to them.

"Hey Trent," said the one with curly brown hair, "This your new girlfriend or something?" The boys behind him laughed as he pointed at Alex.

"Leave off Buckley." Said Trent softly. Though Alex had pegged Trent as extremely outgoing he seemed to shrink under this boys gaze.

"Hey you." The boy- Buckley- shoved Darren. "Answer my question. Who's this then?"

"Just the new kid." Darren said quietly, seemingly unwilling to retaliate. The boy standing next to Buckley's left side kicked Darren hard on the knee. From Alex's seated position the boy looked twice as big as Darren and he felt rage stir within them. He didn't understand why Trent and Darren weren't fighting back. They were boys in a Home; surely they had some kind of fighting skill?

When Darren didn't reply another boy kicked Darren, hitting his chest with a thudding noise.

"Hey!" Yelled Alex, getting to his feet. "Stop that."

"Stop that." Mimicked Buckley in a high, whiny voice. "Stop that."

"Dude, ignore them." Trent hissed at Alex, who promptly ignored him, all thoughts of staying under the radar replaced by fury that these boys thought they could just get away with bullying the two boys in front of him. It was people like these; the ones who got away with bullying that later became people like General Sarov and Damian Cray. Teachers who ignored the fights, turned a blind eye, allowed infractions to go unpunished exacerbated the problem and what happened. Oh yeah, Alex was recruited at the age of 14 to stop these menaces. Well, he was going to stop this case of schoolyard bullying here and now.

"I'm serious." He said. "Just walk away and leave us alone."

"Leave us alone." Buckley mocked. "Please, you losers should be grateful to even have our attention. You should be happy we even deign to touch you."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Asked Alex angrily.

A boy behind Buckley stepped forward menacingly. When Alex stood his ground he put his hands on Alex's shoulders and shoved. Well, he tried to.

Alex, unimpressed, grabbed one of the boy's arms and twisted it behind the boys back, raising a leg to kick the boy away.

"You little-" Buckley cried and the remaining boys swarmed on Alex.

Alex dodged a punch, only to grab the next one use the momentum to swing his body halfway around, missing yet another stray fist and using a back kick to shove one of the boys to the ground. He then jabbed another boy in the kidneys, darting in and tripping another boy he kicked him too to the ground. He then grabbed Buckley by the neck and carefully found a pressure point by his collarbone.

"Listen to me," he hissed, "You are going to walk away right no and not tell anyone about this or I am going to be much less lenient the next time."

Buckley tried to spit at him, but missed and some of the saliva ended up trailing from his mouth. Alex raised an eyebrow, but let Buckley shove him away and storm off.

"Dude." Breathed Trent, "That was so awesome! Really, really stupid. But totally awesome!"

"Oh man," groaned Darren from behind them. "Mr Payne is coming!"

**A/N: And there you have it! Another hugely delayed chapter of A Universe Away! I'm so sorry for taking so long! I'm horrible I know. Have a cookie as a consolation gift?**

**And tell me, what do you want the consequences of Alex's actions to be? **

**Please review, even if it's to tell me how horrible an updater I am! I love getting them and reply to every single one!**

**Ok, way too many exclamation marks… **


	11. Chapter 11

Alex glanced around and spotted the incoming teacher. The man looked furious, his face a storm cloud as he walked, or rather stomped really, over to the three boys.

"What is going on here?" He hissed. Staring down at them from a quite impressive height.

"Mr Payne," Trent tried, "It really wasn't-"

"I don't want to hear it." The teacher interrupted, "I've had enough trouble out of you to give me grey hair!"

Alex couldn't help but think sardonically, that the patch of balding grey hair on the top of his head had probably been around for a lot longer than he'd known Trent.

"You!" He rounded on Alex. "I have no idea who you are, but this really is not a very good first impression."

"I'm sorry, sir." Alex said quietly, knowing that being respectful was definitely in his best interest.

"I'm afraid I'll have to phone you parents." Mr Payne replied, though he now sounded a bit mellower. "This simply isn't acceptable on –what is this, anyway, your first day? Rather dreadful really."

"Sir-" Trent started again but was once again cut off.

"I don't want to hear it Trent. You are obviously not a very good influence on this boy."

Trent subsided sullenly.

The teacher turned back to Alex, running his hand through what was left of his grey hair in exasperation.

"What exactly is your name?" He asked, casting his eyes skyward as if seeking patience. Or, quite possibly, a stiff drink.

"Alex, sir. Alex Rider." Alex couldn't help but think that this probably wasn't the time for James bond impersonations. Though he had to admit it was quite tempting. After all, what was the point of being new to a school if you couldn't introduce yourself, he thought mischievously.

"Well, Mr Rider, why don't you follow me."

Obeying what was obviously not a suggestion, Alex fell into step behind the teacher who looked really quite grumpy indeed.

"I would have to recommend, Mr Rider, that you stay away from those boys." Mr Payne began, "You seem like a nice kid but they are bad news."

Alex didn't know quite how to say that avoiding them was rather impossible because he lived with two of them, and slept in the same room as one. He decided, that therefore, his best option was probably to just hold his tongue. However when this reached they reached the office and Mr Payne picked up the phone ready to dial, staying silent remained impossible.

Hand poised, Mr Payne looked at Alex expectantly. "Mr Rider, I need the number to phone your parents with. Do you have it memorised? Otherwise I will have to look it up in school record, which is quite a hassle."

"Well, sir." Alex began, unable to decide how quite to explain the extremely complicated story that was his family situation. In the end though he decided that three words summed it up quite nicely.

"They're dead, sir." He answered, after a long pause.

Mr Payne looked like he'd just been struck in the chest. This, of course, simply reminded Alex that Darren, had _actually _been hit in the chest by a rather hard foot and he felt anger surge beneath his skin again.

"That said sir, I was really only using self defence. We didn't even start the fight. They came up to us and to be honest, sir, I don't think it was very fair of you to immediately assume Trent's guilt. He had nothing to do with it. He didn't even fight back! It was ridiculous, they didn't stand up for themselves at all, just sat there and allowed those guys to push them around."

While not one of Alex's more eloquent speeches, he couldn't help but think that the message had gotten across from the expression on Mr Payne's face.

"I see." Mr Payne said after several moments had gone by. However, after those two words had escaped his lips he seemed incapable of emitting any more and instead, stood there dumbly, staring at Alex with new eyes.

Alex decided this could just get messy, so he decided to do a bit of damage control.

"Sorry, sir." He said, eyes downcast. "I didn't mean to yell. It's just…well… I feel very impassioned about bullying, and I hate to see other people being pushed around."

Let it never be said that Alex wasn't a good actor. Mr Payne nodded slowly, and put down the phone.

"You're right, Mr Rider. I didn't let anyone give the full story. I won't call your, ah, guardian-"

"The Boys Home." Alex supplied helpfully.

"Yes, ah, the Boys Home, until you tell me what happened."

-X-

It was on the van ride back to the home, that Alex next had a chance to explain what had happened to Trent and Darren. They were suitably impressed but cautioned Alex about what he had just done.

"It's not that we can't fight." Trent explained.

"It's that we don't have an adult to fight for us." Darren continued.

"You see Alex," Trent picked up," We know how to fight, everyone here does. If you don't someone will end up teaching you. Though from what we saw today, you look to be just fine already. It's not that Buckley is so big, really. It's that he has parents. And they can, you know, sue or press charges or call for expulsion, whatever. We don't have that. Not really. Those of us who still have parents even. They're all drunk or abusive or in jail or something. So, you have to learn to back down."

"Even if fighting back was really cool!" Darren enthused.

"Yeah," Trent agreed. "It was awesome. But if you want to survive here you can't attract attention to yourself. Teachers don't mind siding with people who have parents to complain about any decisions they make."

Alex contemplated this for a moment. The logic behind it was sound but the reasoning was fundamentally flawed.

"It's morally skewed, you know." Alex commented. "This whole idea. They aren't better than us because they have parents. In fact we're better than them, because we can survive without having everything handed to us. We are the ones who will go through life making a name for ourselves, because we are unable to hide behind anyone else."

He could see Trent and Darren nodding in agreement, and, as he looked around, saw that their conversation had attracted the attention of some of the vans other occupants. Alex decided to expand on his train of thought, after all, he did have what seemed o a reasonably attentive audience.

"Look at it this way, say we don't attract attention to ourselves. Say we underperform, don't go to football trials, and do badly on tests so that people don't bully us. It won't get us anywhere. Everyone can agree on that. Well not standing up for yourself, that isn't doing you any justice either. You let bullies go on believing that those weaker or poorer than them won't fight back. That they hold all the power. Even if the bullying does get worse, at least you don't go back to you bed at the end of the day wondering why you're such a coward."

"But you said it yourself Alex." Darren ventured. "The bullying gets worse. What do you do about that? It's not like you can just go tell a teacher. They don't care. And anyway, then you'd be a grasser."

"I know it seems like they don't. Maybe they don't, I can hardly claim to be an expert. But the truth is that in the end you have to look after yourself and I don't think sitting there and getting kicked in the ribs is any way of doing that." He sent an apologetic look at Darren. "As for telling tales, this isn't kindergarten, this stuff is a lot more serious than someone taking the crayon you wre using."

"Well," Trent said. "I think you are right in principle, but it just doesn't work."

"Oh and letting yourself get kicked around does. Tell me, how is that working out for you?" Alex replied sarcastically. "I'm just saying, you might want to think about what exactly you're doing by being so obedient to their wishes."

The rest of the ride to the home was strangely subdued after that, and Alex couldn't help but doubt his words. Maybe he should have just kept his mouth shut. Maybe it was better to just fit in. These doubts lingered in his mind, creeping up on him for the rest of the day. That is, until he remembered Darren's face when he'd been kicked in the ribs. That alone was enough for Alex to think that, quite frankly, he agreed with what he'd said. Letting yourself get hurt was stupid. After all, this was school. He wasn't luring anyone into a false sense of security, this passiveness had no purpose except to encourage bullying, and that was one thing Alex would never, ever do.

-X-

That night, after Alex had completed his chores –emptying each boy's waste paper basket and then later, helping cook- and done his –exceedingly boring but thankfully small amount of- homework, he finally crawled into bed.

He and Trent spent about ten minutes talking about how Alex could join the football team midseason, before finally turning their light off. Alex rolled onto his back, his arm protesting wearily from the funny angle it had been in while he'd been lying on his side. He stared up at the ceiling, willing himself to just fall asleep. His brain was not, however, being particularly cooperative and instead he lay, idly tracing his eyes up and down the cracks and stains on the ceiling, listening to the strange noises of a neighbourhood which was not his own. Valiantly, he struggled to keep his mind on pleasant topics, concentrating on his projected football trial and eventually he fell into a fitful sleep.

It seemed like only moments later, and perhaps it was, when he was startled awake again by a hand on his shoulder. Automatically, Alex lashed out, catching his would-be attacker hard in the stomach.

"Oomph." Grunted Trent, "What was that for?" He whispered.

"Sorry," Replied Alex, whispering also. "You startled me."

Looking around it was very easy to tell that it was not morning, through the window he could tell it looked to be about 1am, a rather unreasonable time to be getting up, Alex grumbled inwardly.

"What is it anyway?" He asked.

"You."

"Me?" Repeated Alex, disbelieving. "What that mean?"

"Come on then." Trent whispered sharply, impatient.

Warily Alex got up, swearing silently when he stubbed his toe on the dresser by his bed in the dark. He hadn't quite gotten used to the rooms layout and had forgotten it was there.

Trent gestured impatiently for Alex to follow him and the padded softly down the stairs and into the rec room.

In the rec room, were about ten of the older boys. Alex noticed Darren in one comer, who smiled at him.

"What is this?" Alex joked, "A secret midnight initiation?"

"Damn you caught us," Trent smiled, but sobered quickly. "Not really. But I'll let Ben explain."

Ben turned out to be a well muscled 18 year old, with dark skin and hair in dreadlocks. He looked a very typical rebellious teenager, who was clearly the leader of the group as he motioned for Trent and Alex to sit down. Once they did he began to speak.

"Alex, man, you seem like a good kid, but I've gotta tell ya, you've really stirred the pot around here. See, we," He gestured to people in the room, "W heard about what you said. And it's pretty interesting. You've got a lot of opinions on ya. To put it simply, we agree. It's my job as the oldest to look out for everyone and I haven't been fulfilling my duties. Darren's got a bruise on his chest from one of the idiots at school. That's not acceptable. So I wanted to say thanks, for letting me see that."

He nodded at Alex, who nodded uncertainly back, still unsure of to the exact reason for the meeting. His question was answered a moment later.

"Now, onto business." Ben began, "It's obvious that we need to do something drastic. Those kids at school need to learn not to mess with us. It's simply not ok. So, any ideas on how to set the straight?"

There was a lot of murmuring and Trent turned to Alex and winked.

"Well mate," He smiled, "I think you may have just started a revolution. "

Alex blinked. He wasn't quite sure what to think of that.

**A/N: What's this, a not very angsty chapter? For shame! **

**Well here's another one. Any ideas on what the boys will be doing for their revenge? (evil laughter)**

**Write me a review telling me what you think! I love them! And, and, and, the story is finally over 20k! (mini happy dance) Celebrate with me! Oh, and here's a cookie. **

**I adore you guys so much! Oh, and a special shoutout to Torn Apart Paper Dinosaur, who went through and reviewed every single chapter! WOW. **


	12. Chapter 12

"We make a giant pile of trash and barricade them in the school!" All heads turned to Caleb, the youngest boy at the meeting and only in his first year at the high school. "You know, to signify that they're trash…" He trailed off as he met several sceptical gazes.

"I think that's just a bit too drastic, Caleb." Said Ben, a fond smile playing on his lips. "Anyone with anything a bit more feasible?'

They had been running suggestions for about five minutes, but there weren't too many genuinely good ideas. Most were either just shy of lunacy (running a bus into the school, which would cause it to close down) or criminally insane (something about a toothpick, a banana and a chainsaw). The older ones were mostly silent, contemplating their ideas but either unwilling to say them or unable to think of a good solution. The younger ones had no such problems but seemed physically incapable of coming up with a sensible suggestion.

Alex had stayed quiet throughout the conversation. It would be better after all if they could just figure out how to help themselves. He had done enough to draw attention to himself. It would be so much easier to keep his head down however, if they could actually come up with a plan. There was no subtlety to any of the suggested plans; nothing strategically designed to hit the bullies where it hurt the most. Finally, Alex decided to speak up, this wasn't going anywhere and he was tired.

"Look." He began, "The solution here isn't to come up with grandiose, illegal plans involving ninjas or explosives. It's to hit them hard. Bullies, as you hear so often in those terrible workshops, are normally insecure. What we need to do is topple their support base. A tower can't stand if it has no base right? We can do the same here."

He could see by looking around the room that he had their undivided attention. Ben was nodding intently, brow furrowed in thought. Alex made eye contact with him. Ben was the leader, which meant it was Ben who had to be convinced. The rest of the boys would, in the end, probably be happy with anything if it meant getting some action. It was Ben who would think it through. Alex could tell already that he was a natural leader from the way he controlled the boys.

"Think about it," Alex began again. "Bullies are fundamentally cowards, they approach someone because they have an advantage. When they do it to us it's because we have no parents, but to a random kid it's because they are smaller or have less friends to stand up for them. Bullies are just people. They have no superpowers, they dislike brussel sprouts and, of course, they need to feel appreciated. When they bully someone their friends egg them on, that's why they get the rush. What we need to do is make sure they don't have a leg to stand on. Discredit them, take away their fanbases and the fear is gone. They become just another face in the crowd."

"Right." Said Ben. "I think Alex has a point. Let's do it."

Alex smiled grimly. Maybe it was just in his genes to fight injustice. At home or… abroad. Though he wasn't sure which of these it was right now.

-X-

"I so hate you for making me do this." Whispered Trent to Alex as they made their way out to morning tea.

"Oh don't be so dramatic," Alex replied, rolling his eyes. "You'll be maimed at worst."

"Thanks." Trent glared.

Alex only smiled serenely in response.

Frustrated at Alex's lack of response Trent gave up glaring and walked instead to the tree where Buckley and his gang generally sat. There he lounged casually, back against the tree, seemingly unafraid.

It was only moments before Buckley and the thugs who followed him everywhere saw Trent as they walked onto the oval.

"Hey," Yelled Buckley, "What do you think you're doing?"

"What on earth do you mean?" Asked Trent, apparently oblivious.

"_You _are standing on _our _tree. Now, get off!"

"This is public property you know. I don't have to go anywhere unless a teacher asks me to."

"Oh really?" Asked Buckley taking a menacing step forward. The gang around him also took a step forward and began to murmur threateningly.

Quite a crowd had gathered, watching the confrontation, just as Alex had predicted. These were teenagers after all; they loved fights and watched eagerly for the first punch to be thrown. Darren stood amongst them, listening to reactions.

Trent, despite the intimidation tactics of the boys in front of him stared back at them unwaveringly. "Really," He replied, chin jutting forward.

"Well I guess I'll just have to remove you."

"Yeah? Just you? None of your posse?" Buckley looked a bit flustered, looking back at his so-called 'posse'.

"Yeah then. I'll do it." He replied and Trent nodded.

The crowd stirred, itching for the fight to begin. Groups of teens murmured to each other, betting on the winner. No one looked terribly concerned for Trent's health but instead were trying to decide how long he would last against Buckley. The general student populace had never seen Trent fight before. He generally lay down and took Buckley's abuse,so this development was juicy news. Of course, it also meant that no one thought he'd win.

This meant that what happened ten second later left them startled.

When Buckley stepped forward, fists swinging, Trent didn't move an inch. Right before the fist connected with his face he darted his hand out and grabbed it. For anyone trained in fighting this would not have been a very difficult task considering that Buckley had no training or skills at all and his fist was sluggish in the air. That did not mean however, that Buckley was not completely disconcerted. He tried to tug his hand back but Trent held on with a vice like grip, the ball very clearly in his court.

"Tsk, tsk." He shook his head. "Resorting to violence to get your way. Not very friendly, if you ask me. Aren'y supposed to be an upstanding member of the school community." He mocked.

Buckley's friends tried to move forward and swarm and Trent but found themselves blocked by a very determined Alex.

"I really wouldn't." He told them, arms crossed over his chest.

The boys hesitated, remembering how Alex had taken down their leader the day before. It was all the opening Alex needed. He grabbed the nearest one and whispered in his ear.

"I really think you should just listen to this." A subtle nudge of a pressure point had the boy nodding, eyes wide. The other boys took a step backwards, looking unsure. Alex nodded to himself in satisfaction. They would not interfere.

Meanwhile Trent was still holding onto to Buckley's fist, after staring into the other boys eyes a moment later he dropped it. Buckley grunted, stumbling forward but Trent pushed him back in disgust.

"You," he began," Are a pretty terrible human being. I really don't know if there is a scrap of moral decency in you. But listen to me. You. Don't. Scare. Me. I may not have stood up for myself or others in the past but I'm sick of you thinking you can do whatever you want. We all are. It took a bit of fresh blood to help us understand how stupid we've been letting some gorilla like you think he had the upper hand. Well, no longer. Stay away from us. Don't talk to us, look at us or touch us and we aren't going to have a problem. Clear?"

"You little-" Buckley abandoned words in favour of throwing himself at Trent. Alex stepped in almost casually. Hoisting Buckley off of his friend with ease, while simultaneously kicking his feet out from under him. From there Alex simply let go and Buckley landed quite soundly on his own behind.

Around him the crowd laughed. They were quite delighted to see him humiliated by two nobodies. After all, the crowd is always so fickle in their affections. Not, Alex reflected, that they could have held much fondness in their hearts for this boy at his feet.

"Are we going to have a problem?" Alex asked him, leaning down. "Because I can think of nothing I'd like better than having a proper fight. You know what going through foster care does to a kid? Just about everything. Believe me when I say I've taken on worse than you. I live in a home. I've got nothing to lose. Are you so sure you want your parents finding out about all the trouble you've been up to?"

This was not, of course, strictly speaking true, Alex thought. He'd never been in foster homes and had only lived in a boy's home for a couple of days. It did the trick though, as he saw Buckley's eyes widen and then narrow. Rumours always were worse than the truth. Buckley shoved Alex's hand off of his shoulder and stormed off, pushing his way through the eerily silent crowd.

The second he vanished from site, slamming the door into the main building whispers broke out. Alex could feel the heavy weight of dozens of pairs of eyes on the back of his neck as he walked over to Trent.

"Well?" He asked him.

"Yeah, yeah." Replied Trent. "I'm fine. Still a bit surprised though. I thought for sure he'd just beat me up with his gang."

"I thought they were a 'posse'?" Alex teased.

"Whatever, Alex. Stop gloating. You're plan worked, but how long will it last?"

Alex smirked.

"I'm willing to bet we've at least made some impact. Look at the crowd."

The crowd were slowly dispersing but, although disappointed at not having seen more of a fight and at least some blood Alex could see that they had made people think. Darren was grinning, almost manically.

Not bad for his first day as the leader of a revolution.

-X-

Throughout the day there were whispered words and furtive, sometimes blatant glances at all the boys from the home. There had been no less than three confrontations with various bullies from different age groups in the school, all by the boys from the home.

The news had spread like wildfire. But what the news was exactly seemed to be up for debate. Some believed that the boys were going to go to the teachers with the names of everyone who had every insulted them. Others believed that this was part of some kind of underground cult movement, while still more thought that it was a ploy for sympathy so that people would give them money.

While Alex knew that the rumours could have been stranger it didn't stop him from glancing oddly at the students he heard spreading the gossip. While he was hardly surprised that they were the talk of the school, in fact it had been the aim, he couldn't help but think that the students had truly ridiculous minds.

It became apparent by maths that even the teachers had cottoned on that something was happening. Not that Alex could blame them. Teenagers were hardly ever subtle and he had seen some very obvious note passing and whispering in his classes that day. It was in maths however, that things got interesting.

"Davis!" Yelled the teacher, glaring at a girl he had caught turning around to blatantly stare at Alex one too many times. "What on earth are you doing?"

"Sorry, sir." She replied.

Mr Benton however, was not satisfied with merely an apology.

'I'd like to know, Davis, what can be so terribly interesting about out new student that you feel the need to stare at him every five minutes."

"Nothing!" She replied much to quickly.

"Mathematics class is not the time for your schoolyard crushes Miss Davis." Mr Benton reproved.

"What!" Cried the girl. In her need to prove that she was not crushing on Alex she ignored her original misgivings and started, "No, Mr Benton. Its just today he totally intimidated Gabe Buckley at morning tea and now everyone is saying he's a criminal mastermind!"

"Ah, right." Mr Benton cleared his throat. "Would you like to assuage her fears Mr Rider so that we may all return to our lesson?"

"I'm flattered." Alex replied with an easy grin. "But I prefer the title of peacekeeper to criminal."

Several brows were raised in disbelief as Alex continued to smile benignly at the teacher.

-X-

As Alex was getting ready for bed his phone screen lit up. It was funny, but Alex hadn't even thought of how he was going to pay the bill. Maybe he could force MI6 to do, after all it wans't like the home was going to do it and MI6 as his 'employers' technically should owe him money.

He clicked **Read Message **and the screen changed to see a text from Tom.

**Hey Al. Miss u. How are u holding up?**

Alex smiled as he sat down on the bed. Good old Tom. He'd barely even thought about him while he'd been here. Too wrapped up in feeling sorry for himself over losing Jack. He texted back:

**Not so bad here. Better than the Bank. You?**

He waited patiently for Tom to text back, nodding to Trent as he came into the room. A few minutes later his phone buzzed in his hand.

**Where are u? Need me 2 bust you out? House is a wreck, parents fighting. Prob wouldn't noticed if I snuck u in. **

Alex shook his head, before quickly texting back.

**No. But I'd like to see you. Call me sometime? At Dulwich Home for Boys. **

His reply was almost immediate.

**Yeah. Anytime. Just say and I'll be there for u.**

**Thanks. **Alex texted back, **Night.**

He waited for his response before turning his phone off and sinking back on his bed. It hurt to think that maybe he would simply never see Tom again, long years of friendship broken by his stupid job.

Tom was his most loyal friend. The only one who knew about both sides of Alex's life. He had been Alex's anchor. Constantly there for him. He knew that even though Tom's text said that he would always be available, Alex was truly isolated from the only person who made him feel normal.

After all, it was difficult to feel like you were anything less than a freak when those around you stared with wide eyes, as if he was a bug in a jar.

Alex may have felt important and powerful today, like a revolutionary, taking on the world. But the truth stole up on him at night. He was as helpless as a moth, trying desperately to reach the moon, never to succeed.

**A/N: A nice long one for you guys to make up for how long it has been! I decided to add on the little angsty scene at the end as a bonus. What did you think?**

**Thanks to everyone for their patience. My school exams are over and I'll hopefully have the time and motivation to begin writing again. I had the next couple of chapters planned but this one went off on a tangent so… they'll have to be changed. **

**Anyway I really hope you enjoyed and it was enough to make up for the wait.**

**What did you think? Is there anything you'd like me to include in upcoming chapters? I'm really excited for some of the things I have planned, including a visit from Tom! **

**Cookies for all and please review!**


	13. Chapter 13

Alex glared, frustrated, at the screen in front of him. The Home's computer was a bulky, old thing that no amount of technical genius could possibly make any faster. It was a testament really of how far computers had come that it took up the entire desk. It was however, still a treasured asset to the boys who fought for their time to use it -however much it belonged in a museum- like cats and dogs. Alex, however, wasn't very impressed by the slow rate at which it tok to do, well, anything. He had been waiting for the same page to load for over three minutes and was consequently devising ways to chuck the stupid computer out of the window while still having it labelled an 'accident'.

Finally, his email opened. He hadn't checked it since he'd been dumped at the Boy's Home, now over two weeks ago. Alex wasn't particularly concerned; after all he'd left it much longer when on his missions. It wasn't like you could stop an inter-continental chase and say 'hey, time out! I need to check my email.' As if that wouldn't have been a glaring hole in whatever identity he was masquerading in.

It was with eyebrows raised however, that Alex looked at the total unread email count awaiting him proudly at the top of the screen.

"57?" He muttered incredulously.

He just couldn't quite fathom who would be emailing him. He'd been texting Tom constantly, (he hoped MI6 were paying that bill because he certainly didn't have the money) so who else would possibly be emailing him? A quick perusal of the sender column lead him to the conclusion of, just about everyone.

He clicked an email at random, with the sender called _Ban D Coot._ Like the furry animal? He wondered in amusement.

The contents weren't so funny.

Alex shook his head. Who actually said _I hope they beat you at that orphanage. _How could anyone write that and not look back on it and think 'what on earth is wrong with me?' It lead Alex to only one very obvious conclusion, the kids at Brookland –for surely these would be the only ones with so creative and terribly spelled death threats- just had no idea what they were writing. Alex, having been on the receiving end of death threats many, many times and having survived an assassination attempt that had very nearly killed him, took death threats pretty seriously.

Still, it was a bit disheartening to see that people felt the need to express to him how overjoyed they were about him being wrenched away from the only home he'd ever known and left to rot in a group home. Oh yeah, and they also hoped he hated it there. It was very flattering really, flattering in a way that made him want to hit people. What did they know anyway? Most of them lived with one or both of their parents with their own bedroom, extra curricular activities and a stupid working computer. After all, if they had been in his place he hardly thought they would have wasted their time writing someone they didn't like emails on the stupid thing.

Which brought him to a question of his own. Why should he waste his time reading them?

He deleted all the ones with stupid names like _Terminator _and _Ura Loser _until he was left with a couple from people who actually genuinely wanted to wish him well. Those made him smile, and he put them in a folder marked **Dental Hygiene**.

That left him with a handful of totally anonymous emails. Five were junk, two were links from Tom and one… one was from Jack. Or at least someone who claimed to be her.

Alex, still thought there was something wrong about the entire thing. Something… maybe not sinister, but… he just had an uneasy feeling that stirred in his gut when he thought of Jack's sudden departure from his life.

It said:

_Alex,_

_I miss you a lot. Please write back with your forgiveness._

_Love,_

_Jack_

It was too short to have possibly been written by Jack. Jack, who was loud and chatty never wrote anything two sentences long that wasn't a note about milk. All the things left unsaid and two sentences? It didn't seem right. But at the same time, Alex felt hope flower in his chest. He was jaded sure, but sometimes he really, really just wanted something good to happen that didn't involve ulterior motives or a plan to conquer and/or destroy the world. Surely, that wasn't too much to ask.

Alex sighed, he wasn't old enough to feel world-weary.

"Hey Alex?" Asked Caleb from across the room, "Are you done with the computer?"

"Yeah." Replied Alex.

And he logged off.

-X-

It was dark when Alex opened his eyes, body tense as he scanned the room. A movement next to him, caused him to grab the knife he had stashed under his pillow and hold it to his attackers throat.

"You have _got _to stop doing that!" Exclaimed Trent, backing away.

"Stop surprising me in the middle of the night and I will." Alex replied, now fully alert and not at all impressed at the hour in which he has been woken. Well, that and he was just a tiny bit, ah, paranoid right now. That email had really shaken him up and he felt like everywhere he turned was some kind of conspiracy. At the moment the conspiracy of choice was, 'wake Alex up at an insane time so he is grumpy ad irritable for the rest of the day'.

"Honestly! You'd think by now you would have learnt not to do it."

"Do you want me to use a bucket of water then? Because I guarantee it isn't as fun as it sounds." Trent replied, looking half mischievous and half exasperated.

"I don't see how waking up drenched would ever sound fun." Alex grumbled, swinging his legs out of bed. "What do you want this time, anyway?"

"Secret meeting!" Trent whisper-yelled gleefully.

"What? Again? Haven't we already gone through all the secret society cult activity in the schedule for this week?"

"Alex." Trent sighed, sounding extremely put-upon. "When will you understand that there is no such thing as too many secret meetings?"

"When they happen after my alarm clock rings."

Alex continued to complain to himself as he followed Trent down the stairs and into the lounge area. When they entered all heads turned towards them and Alex felt the weight of expectant gazes as he sat down by Trent in the sort-of circle. Several of the older boys didn't seem to present but no one looked worried so Alex assumed they knew about the meeting and didn't care. He certainly wouldn't be here if Trent hadn't dragged him.

"So Alex," Began Ben "How are you adjusting?"

"Um, to the midnight meetings?" Alex asked, puzzled. "Not going to lie, I can't say I enjoy them." He was ok with staying up late, but he really preferred doing it on his own terms and not being woken from a peaceful sleep for no good reason. So excuse him if he was a tad grumpy.

"Yeah." Ben said with a sympathetic smile. "Sorry, but uh, we don't think the Wardens would like this very much."

Wardens were the term they used for the two women who ran the home. They were quite sweet in there own way but took no cheek from anyone.

"What exactly is it they wouldn't like?" Alex asked, just a tad impatiently.

"Fight club!" Said Darren from across the circle, his eyes twinkling merrily.

"I thought you couldn't talk about that?" Alex teased.

"It's not actually fight club." Ben intervened, but his statement was met with disapproving noises.

"It so is, Ben!" Objected Caleb. The twelve year old looking terribly offended by Ben's denial.

"Whatever Caleb." Replied Ben, before turning back to Alex to explain properly. "Our, uh, fight club, as Caleb insists is mostly just sparring. It's to keep up our skills for those of us who can already fight and to teach the younger ones how. It's optional though, and a lot of the older guys only come every once in a while. You looked like you already knew how to handle yourself in a fight. We try to put everything on rosters so if you are teaching one time, you can spar the next time. But it's whatever you want to do, you know?"

"Oh." Said Alex, not completely sure what Ben wanted him to say in reply. Was he supposed to be shocked or horrified or eager? Was Alex surprised that the Home had some kind of underground fighting circuit? No, not really. It was simple logic. Boys liked to fight. If they fought with people at school or in the streets they could get hurt. The Wardens would get mad and the boys would be in a lot of pain since painkillers were expensive and hospitals even more so. A 'Fight Club' as it had been dubbed only made sense. They could channel all their anger, frustration or whatever into something vaguely constructive without hurting anyone who would either hit back hard or tell their parents who would promptly get the offender into Juvie.

He settled on, "Ok, cool."

Ben nodded, seemingly amused and asked Alex if he wanted to spar. What with Ben being the unofficial (Or maybe it was official…? He would have to look into that.) leader of the group Alex was sure this would be his ah, initiation of sorts where he would be tested for his fighting ability.

Alex saw no reason to disappoint.

The others moved out of the way to form a loose ring as he and Ben began to circle each other. Alex, by watching the others stance could tell he was a seasoned and experienced fighter, his muscle tone meant he packed a pretty mean punch, so Alex knew that this was going to be a case of avoiding a direct battle of strength and instead being faster and more agile.

When Ben made the first lunge Alex dodged nimbly away and then proceeded to give back a few slow punches to the gut, which Ben had plenty of time to block. He circled around again, trying to catch Alex off guard but Alex continued to duck and weave, returning less than spectacular punches.

The boys in the circle looked amused, though they were unable to cheer loudly for fear of waking the Wardens up Alex could see easily that they had already counted him out. Alex didn't blame them, he would have counted himself out too. Well… maybe. He had to give himself a bit of credit. He was slightly above average in fighting and in weighing up opponents. Well, maybe better than slightly above average.

Time to impress.

Ben had by that time begun to slow his punches down, allowing for Alex's apparent lack of real skill. It only took a moment for Alex to duck in under them, using the momentum of Ben's last punch to twist his body and throw the older boy over his shoulder and onto the ground. He then promptly put a foot on the other boy's bladder, rolling him onto his stomach before he had a chance to regain his breath and locking the boy's arms behind his back. One arm close enough that the suggestion of a dislocated shoulder was hovering in Ben's forethoughts.

He looked up to see the boys around him staring at Ben's prone body in awe and confusion.

"What just happened?" Asked Caleb.

Alex made eye contact with Trent, who seemed less than surprised. Then again, Alex hadn't expected him to be. It was hard not to be aware of someone's fighting skills when they had just held a knife to your throat half an hour ago.

"Ok." Ben croaked form the ground. "You win. You can let me up now."

"Oh." Alex grimaced, he'd been so caught up in his thoughts he hadn't realised Ben was still at his complete and utter mercy. "Sorry about that."

"It's ok." Replied Ben as he stood up, rolling his shoulders and neck. "But next time, I'll be ready.

Alex smiled, "It's on."

**A/N: Hey guys! I hope you liked this chapter. It's going to get more exciting and hopefully fast-paced from this point forward I'm predicting, so get ready!**

**I just wanted to say, thank you so much for all of your support and lovely comments. It's so close to 200 reviews! This is very, very exciting. ;) **

**I'll try to update soon but in the meantime, happy holidays! I hope everyone is having an awesome time. **

**Leave a review as a present? I promise cookies and milk. **


	14. Chapter 14

Alex stared blankly ahead of him, eyes unseeing as he sat underneath a tree in the Home's backyard. It was a large leafy thing that gave him protection from the suns hard rays. Head lolling back against the trunk he closed his eyes and pretended.

He pretended that he was back in his own home in Chelsea, waiting for Ian or Jack to call him in for lunch. He pretended that he still went to Brookland, and he still had friends there. He pretended-

"Hey!" A voice snapped him out of his thoughts. It was Trent, striding towards him with determination.

"Is…?" Alex asked.

"Yeah." Trent smiled at him, clapping him on the back and shoving him off towards the door leading inside.

"Go on then." He yelled as Alex took off.

Alex entered the living room at a run before stopping in his tracks when he saw what was waiting for him.

"Alex!" Yelled Tom.

Alex smiled, walking forward to clap Tom on the shoulder for a 'bro' hug. Just being able to see Tom with his own two eyes, feel his breathing on the back of his neck made Alex feel like everything was right in the world. While in reality it had only been a few weeks since they had last seen each other it had felt like an eternity for Alex.

"Dude!" Exclaimed Tom, "It is so good to see you." They had been texting each other non-stop but this was different.

"You too." Alex replied quietly, his smile feeling so big that it could split his face open. "Come on, I'll show you up to my room."

They walked up the stairs in silence simply basking in each other company. For Alex this was his chance to feel normal. Even though saying it out loud was a totally unmanly thing for him to do, he had really missed Tom. So much that just thinking about him sometimes caused a lump in his throat. Life without Tom, his steadfast friend for years seemed empty.

"Not too shabby." Said Tom after touring the small room. "All the way here I kept imagining different scenarios, but I'll tell you, most of them had a lot more cockroaches than this."

"Dude, it's a Boy's Home, not a prison."

"I don't know Al, seems to me this is a prison. MI6 can just dump you here until they need you. And you can't get out."

Alex sighed.

"Let's just, not talk about MI6, ok. I think they've invaded enough of my life without taking up your visit too."

"Right. So when do I meet your roomie?" Alex smiled, glad that the subject had been dropped so easily.

"Right now, I think."

Alex took Tom down to the recreational area, where most of the boys including Trent and Darren were hanging out, watching a cricket match.

"Guys," He began, when all heads turned to stare at the stranger in their midst. "This is Tom, my best friend from my old school."

Trent came over first. Shaking hands with Tom, he looked over at Alex and nodded. Alex relaxed, if Trent liked him he could continue to have Tom over. He wasn't sure why it was so important that the two best friends he had got along but then… Of course it was important. These were his two best friends. He hadn't realised it before but he valued Trent's friendship very highly, as his roommate but also as a person. He wasn't going to spill all his secrets to him or anything but it was good to think that he wasn't so emotionally stunted that he couldn't make, well, friends.

It wasn't until later, when they were back in his room again that Tom broached a serious topic of conversation with Alex.

"Look, you know how you told me about those emails?" Tom began, "Well I've heard a couple of mutterings…"

Alex didn't say anything, just waited for Tom to continue.

"I think they might try to track you down. I'm not sure why they're still so fascinated with you, but it really does sound like they might try to come find you here."

"Who?"

"The jerks in our grade, some in the higher ups who you've slighted. They really want to humiliate you, I think. You know, come jeer at you."

"I see." Alex replied. And he did see, without the immediate threat of his presence there to discourage them, the rumours and the people circulating them had become more vicious. After all, his legend had been around for over a year, they weren't going to forget him in a couple of weeks. It was the writers of the emails probably, seeking to make themselves feel better by knocking Alex down a peg or two now that he was in foster care and couldn't hurt them back. Well, Alex thought, he'd just have to nip that one in the bud.

"Thanks Tom." He nodded decisively, "I can handle this."

-X-

Alex was leaning against the bike rack of Brookland School when the bell rang at 3:05pm that Monday. He'd chosen this location because the majority of the school left through the front entrance, and to do that they would need to pass the bike rack. He'd had to cut classes at his own school in the afternoon to get here on time and he knew he'd be in plenty of trouble but hey, if there was one thing good about living in a Boy's Home it was that getting in trouble and skipping classes was expected.

-X-

When Jim walked out into the schoolyard after the bell signalling the end of school went off, all that was on his mind was what his mom was making for dinner. He really hoped it was fish sticks. However, as he walked over to the bike rack to get his bike he noticed a familiar mop of blond hair. It took him a moment to place it, before his eyes narrowed and he began to walk over with purpose.

There in front of him was Alex Rider, the school druggie, or rather ex-school druggie who was now in some kind of orphanage or whatever since his guardian abandoned him. Jim thought his guardian just couldn't take having that freak for a charge anymore and had skipped it to get far away from the druggie. Rider was leaning casually against Jim's bike, nonchalant in the face of Jim's bigger frame.

"Yo, druggie. What are you doing around here? Your orphanage kicks you out?" Jim sneered.

Rider had the gall to raise an eyebrow in reply. Well Jim wasn't going to take any of that. This wasn't Rider's turf anymore.

"What no clever comeback?" Jim knew that Rider was always very high and mighty, with a superior attitude and the supposed wit to match, so he was surprised the Rider wasn't responding. But no, he stayed silent, staring steadily at Jim, gaze flat.

"You aren't welcome here anymore Rider. So get lost." Jim took threatening step forwards, until he was about half a metre away from Rider.

By this time they had attracted a bit of a crowd as other people from the school noticed the altercation. Rider's form was a familiar one and a couple of mass texts meant that the majority of the school was gathering around the bike rack, ready to watch Jim fight Rider. Jim gulped. While he was pretty sure a pretty boy like Rider couldn't really hurt him, especially since Jim was bigger, some of those rumours had been nasty… Oh, and the whole school was going to be watching, so losing was not an option. Well, Jim thought, he would just have to man up and prove himself better than the freaky Rider.

Throughout Jim's internal battle Rider hadn't so much as moved a centimetre. After making eye contact with Jim Rider made a slow surveillance of the crowd before smirking ever so slightly at Jim.

Jim felt his blood boil. Rider was so smug in his superiority over him. Well Jim had about a million things Rider didn't have, one of which was a family.

"You're such a loser Rider." Jim remarked, "I mean, why do you even exist. Certainly, no one wants you here." Rider still had no reaction so Jim decided to just get on with and be blunt.

"Why are you here?" He asked, frustrated at talking at an apparent brick wall. "What do you want, you low life drug taking freak?"

Rider made his move then, cocking an eyebrow and taking a step forward, straight into Jim's personal space. Jim could feel Rider's breath mingle with his own. He looked into Rider's eyes and felt his heart nearly stop. They were like twin shard of ice, staring down at him, no mercy in their gaze.

"You wanted a show?" He whispered into Jim's ear, breath hot in contrast with his tone. "You wanted to play tough guy? Well, I'm not going to bite. Because you, You aren't worth my time."

He stepped back until he could see the rest of the crowd, eyes still sharp.

"Brookland." Rider began, almost patronising in tone, "How unhappy I am to see you." He tilted his head to one side, a smirk playing over the corner of his mouth.

"I'm sure you will take great pleasure in hearing that you made my last year or so here pretty hellish. I know, I know, such an accomplishment to singularly verbally abuse someone's reputation to the point where even the people who actually knew more about me than my name couldn't talk to me. A great accomplishment I'm sure."

Sarcasm dripped from his every word and Jim gulped.

"I'm also sure that you will be absolutely thrilled to hear that yes, I am living in a Boy's Home because yes, I have no parents or guardian. Doesn't that make you feel excited, knowing that I have no one left in the world. Wonderful I know, that you can go home tonight and say 'hey mom, what's for dinner?'"

Jim had an uncomfortable flashback to his own previous thoughts about dinner.

"And please don't hyperventilate but I haven't had face to face contact with a single person I've ever known in the past few years of my life since my guardian was deported. Yeah, as in her visa ran out. I didn't kill her. Oh, don't look at me like that, I know the sort of _precious _little rumours you've had circulating about me. Don't worry, they've gotten back to me, your efforts weren't wasted."

There was a long silence. The crowd stirred, looking at each other, a couple videoing the confrontation on their phones. No one seemed willing to say anything. Jim, was about to step in, say something or do something that would stop this icy cold river of words pouring out of Rider's mouth when Rider spoke once more.

"But really, I didn't come here to tell you how much better off I am without all the harrassment from school. I came here to tell you not to mess with me. And to make this one statement very clear. I don't want to see any of you again. And if I do… well… you can decide how much you want to believe about the rumours surrounding me, but let me make it clear. It. Won't. Be. Pretty. Just because screwing with my life is a game to you, doesn't mean it's a game to me. Oh, and you make me very, _very _worried about the future of Britain if you, the middle class, who will grow up to be doctors, lawyers and teachers, are so horrible now. What will you become later, when the future depends on you? What kind of decisions will you make then, when the easy ones you made in high school were all of the wrong ones."

He gave a pointed glance in Jim's direction, who felt uncomfortably like wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers. Rider's speech made him feel young and uncomfortable, like a squirmy toddler. He was so… bitter, that was the word. So angry and yet not screaming or punching, but tall and silent. Jim glanced around unhappily, trying to see what the general reaction of the crowd was. He wanted to impress them, but somehow all he found he wanted to do was go home and eat dinner, do his homework even, and get Alex Rider's cold eyes and steely voice out of his mind.

**A/N: Well that's pretty much the end of the Brookland arc. I am so, so, sorry that I haven't updated in so long, I've just been really busy. But I'm pretty sik right now and I don''t feel like doing homework so figured I would write a chapter.**

**I really hope I still have some readers! I appreciate all of you so much and I've had so much positive feedback about this fic. I really just want to say thank you for reading and if you have any comments I'd adore it! **


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: A tiny, **_**tiny**_** bit triggery for mentions of depression and suicide, don't worry nothing major. But please don't read if this might bother you, until after the break But this is a pretty exciting chapter I think! Returning characters and all that. xD**

Alex stepped onto the community bus on his way back from Brookland, sighing deeply as he walked to the back of the bus to take a seat. The entire encounter had left him… numb. Yes, that was it. He'd thought confronting old enemies like Brookland would be cathartic and he would feel lifted of some of his burdensome feelings. However, Alex reflected, as he rested his head against the window of the bus feeling the slight shake of its movement reverberate through him, that simply wasn't the case. He didn't really feel anything at all. No weight had been lifted off his shoulders, he didn't magically feel right as rain, he just felt sort of empty. Hollow. And very, very tired. Was this what it felt like to be old? Alex certainly felt ancient and so very, very far away from his childhood memories.

Confronting petty school children had served a purpose, it would hopefully keep them out of his hair, but it hadn't done anything for him really. He wasn't suddenly vindicated and his long speech probably wouldn't have any lasting effect. Some might feel a small twinge of guilt, maybe, to be easily forgotten by the next morning. Alex couldn't help but wonder why he bothered sometimes. Why did he fight so hard for a world that gave so little to him in return? Who did he have left to fight for? In the movies the hero always had a girlfriend to get back to (or save), or some agency who would reward him. Or in the worst-case scenario, they were just good human beings. Alex wasn't sure that was what he wanted. Letting people manipulate you into saving the world? No thanks. Except he'd already done that, for Jack. And now Jack was gone.

Alex definitely felt much older than his years as he stared mindlessly out of the dirty bus window. He pressed his mouth into a thin line, cross with his thoughts. They were so cynical and he sounded so, well, depressed. Alex sat up straighter at the thought. He didn't think he was depressed, but then again, he supposed, how would you know when your life was as horrible as his? Still, he pushed the thought away. He wasn't depressed, and he certainly didn't feel like ending his life. Or well he did but not in that sense, only to get away from MI6 to start a new one somewhere far, far away. Away from MI6, away from Brookland and most definitely away from Alan Blunt. But of course, Alex sighed, living on his own was kind of possible when you weren't legal and didn't even own a drivers license. And, though he hated to admit it, MI6 were pretty powerful. Not powerful enough, apparently, to manage without relying on a teenage boy to save the world, but certainly powerful to track said teenager down if he tried to run. They did, after all, control his money, so unless he went and worked somewhere really shady, since no self-respecting employer would hire a boy who looked barely legal, he was doomed.

-X-

It was with this decision that Alex walked into the home and walked straight back out again when he saw who was sitting in the foyer.

"Now, Alex." Mr. Crawley admonished, jogging to catch up to Alex who had made it to the doorway.

Alex span around to face him, arms crossed defensively over his chest.

"What?" He asked, "What more could you possibly want from me? You can't even leave me alone for two weeks before you want me to go on some stupid mission to Jamaica or Isle of Man to assassinate someone or save the world from a shortage of peaches?"

"Now, Alex." Crawley repeated, looking resigned more than anything, to Alex's bitter replies and sarcasm. "I'm not here to send you on a mission."

"Well, that's a relief." Alex muttered, only a tiny bit sarcastic.

"It's about your old guardian actually."

Alex, who had been about to tell Crawley to go do something very unpleasant, stopped in his tracks, mouth hanging open for a split second before he schooled his expression into wilful blankness. He jutted his chin up questioningly.

"Why don't you come with me, Alex?" Crawley half suggested, half demanded. Alex glanced around, but saw no help from his current guardians, who smiled encouragingly, like they were doing him a favour. Still, Alex could admit to himself, he would have come anyway, just knowing that it was about Jack. So when Crawley led him to an inconspicuous black -and expensive looking- car, Alex got in. He sat silently throughout the drive, the walk through the bank and the elevator ride and stared blankly at walls until he was seated opposite the Heads in that dreaded office.

"Hello Alex." Mrs Jones began, for once peppermint free. "How are you?"

"Oh so you care now?" Alex snarked back, but instantly regretted how immature he sounded and gritted his teeth against what he was about to do. "I apologise. I am fine, thank you."

Mrs Jones gave him a smile that did not quite reach her eyes and glanced at Blunt.

"We are invested in your best interests Alex." Blunt intoned, "It would be very helpful if you simply cooperated with us."

Alex nodded, not trusting his mouth, sure that If he opened it a caustic remark would come out, and waited patiently for someone to get on with it already.

"We have your previous guardian, Ms Starbright, on the phone for you."

Alex sucked a breath in harshly. He could talk to Jack! But, he thought as his stomach dropped, did he really want to? There was so much he was confused about. Which was why, of course, he would do it.

Mrs Jones handed him a cell phone, presumably an untraceable one that would be destroyed after the conversation. He scowled at the phone, befoe transfering his annoyed gaze to Mrs Jones.

"Do I get any privacy?" He asked.

"I don't think that's a great idea, Alex." Mrs Jones tried to placate him. "Don't worry, your conversation is completely confidential.

Alex snorted indelicately, as if that mattered to him, but raised the phone to his ear.

"Alex?" Asked a familiar voice on the other end, and Alex felt his heart swoop down into his stomach.

"Jack?" He managed to whisper, feeling totally unprepared for the onslaught of feeling that came with hearing her voice. It wasn't often Alex allowed himself to be vulnerable, but now, talking to Jack, the only part of his family still breathing, he felt himself almost on the verge of tears. He forgot his anger and confusion over her disappearance and waited to hear her voice again with bated breath.

"Oh, Alex!" It cried, "How are you? Are they treating you alright? Who are you staying with?"

"Jack, I-" Alex stopped, unsure how to answer. How _was _he? "I'm surviving. I, Jack, I, well… I don't understand. What happened?" Alex couldn't believe how upset he was.

"Oh, Alex!" Jack cried again, sounding close to tears. "I should never have left you that night!" Alex shook his head, so Jack hadn't been there at all the night she left? No wonder he hadn't heard anything when they came for her!

"I'm so sorry!" She sounded desperate. "I was with my boyfriend! I swear I was going to introduce you soon. It was just so new and our lives are so complicated and I didn't… didn't know how to bring someone into our lives, into your life."

Alex almost stumbled back in shock. Boyfriend? How had he not noticed that Jack had a boyfriend? Even if she was keeping him a secret, Alex should have guessed, there must have been clues. But, looking back, Alex couldn't think of anything. He was always at school or on missions and, in the months before Jack was taken he hadn't been there very much at all. She would have had plenty of time to go on dates, meet people and get a boyfriend and he wouldn't have noticed. Still, he felt hurt. Although it probably wasn't true, Alex couldn't help but feel like Jack had been ashamed of him, been ashamed of her life.

"Alex?" Her voice was tinny, through the small speaker. "Alex say something."

"I, um, ok. Boyfriend." Was all he managed to reply.

"Yes, so I was with him. And they must have been waiting for me to leave, so that you didn't cause a fuss because they just came at 4am and stuck me in a car with some guards. I'm so sorry, I didn't even tell you I was staying overnight, it was kind of sudden and you're just so resourceful, I thought you'd be fine. Still, it was a terrible thing of me to do. Oh, I'm a horrible guardian." She really was crying now, bawling hysterically over the phone.

"Jack, don't cry." Alex rushed to comfort her. "You weren't a terrible guardian. You were great, staying with me after Ian's death and everything. You didn't have to do that."

"Yes, but it was my job as a guardian to take care of you and I did a really awful job of that!" She despaired, "Allowing you to be blackmailed into working as a spy to keep me in Britain, I should have taken you and run! And I never should have left you. I'm not brave enough."

"Jack, stop it." Alex admonished. "You're working yourself into a state. None of this is your fault. You did the best you could."

"I should have been better!" She wailed, but Alex heard her take a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. "When they took me, I barely resisted. I didn't know what to do. I should have fought! I didn't even take my clothes, some guy turned up with a suitcase of them while I was at the airport waiting for my flight the next day! And Josh! I didn't get to say goodbye to him."

Alex felt a bit hurt about that, she hadn't even mentioned not saying goodbye to him. Who was this Josh guy anyway? He was about to ask about him but Jack keep going.

"I feel so bad. I was so ashamed of myself I didn't even try to contact you until yesterday. And believe me that was difficult, trying to get through to someone who wouldn't tell me I was insane and this place didn't exist. Oh, Al! Who is looking after you now? You should tell them about MI6 blackmailing you. Unless you're staying with some agent of theirs? Alex, I've left you all alone."

"I'm fine Jack. I'm in a Boy's Home, and no I can't just tell them. Who would believe me? I have no clue what they think happened to my family." He glanced over at Mrs Jones, Blunt and Crawley who were talking quietly, though Alex wasn't under any delusions that they weren't listening to his conversation with their fullest attention. There wasn't anything he could do to stop them from listening, and it wasn't like if he started speaking in code Jack would magically catch on.

"A Boy's Home!" Jack started to sound hysterical again. "Alex, that's awful. I should come back, tell them to screw it."

"You mean you wouldn't have if I wasn't in a Home?" Alex asked sharply, hurt.

"Well, I-" Jack stopped and sighed. "It's just, MI6 they sorted everything out here, I have money, a flat, they said they would bring out Josh if he wanted."

"So you just don't want to deal with me?" Alex asked angrily. "It's easier over there."

"Oh Alex. You know I love you. But it's not that simple, they don't want me to come back."

"So you don't care about fighting? You just feel guilty and cry and hope I'm alright?" Alex wanted to punch a wall, or kick one, maybe both.

"No, Alex, I just. Well it was getting a bit much you know. I mean, I never would have left you!" She sounded aghast at the idea, "But now that I know you're ok!"

Alex almost threw the phone away from his body, only stopping himself at the last moment and turning to face the back of the room, away from the Heads to collect himself. When he felt like he wasn't about to curl up in a ball and sob he put the phone back to his ear, where Jack's tinny voice was repeating his name over and over.

"I see." He said emotionlessly. "Well, I'm fine Jack. No need to worry about me. You can have your forgiveness." He spat bitterly, remembering the email. Then a thought occurred to him.

"Wait, you said you only contacted me yesterday? But I got your email three days ago!"

"What email?" Asked Jack puzzled.

"The one you sent me!" Alex exclaimed. "Not that your can really call it an email considering how short it was.

"Alex." Jack sounded concerned. "I haven't sent you an email."

Alex exhaled loudly.

"Well that's worse then, isn't it?" He said quietly.

Alex set the phone down gently on the large table by the Heads and walked out of the room. Wishing he could leave his anger, bitter disappointment and loneliness in the room behind him as the door closed with a click.

**A/N: But then who wrote the email? Stay tuned to find out, or tell me if you think you know! ;) Aaand anyone interested in meeting Josh? **

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I'm on holidays and finally have a bit of time to write. I hope you enjoyed the chapter and I'd love to see what you think, so please keep reviewing, every single one of them makes my day!**


	16. Chapter 16

Tears stinging behind his eyes, Alex ran out of the Royal and General half blind, wanting nothing more than to get away from everything. But try as he might, Jack's words haunted him no matter how much distance he put between himsellf and MI6, words of betrayal and rejection, swimming around his head like so many fish in a pond. He ran hard and fast, but try as he might he could not outdistance his feelings, which swarmed around him, making Alex feel like they were cutting off his circulation.

He ran on, before finally coming to a stop under a large tree. He sank to his knees, trying desperately to control his breathing. He stayed there for a while, head resting on the broad trunk, eyes squeezed shut to prevent any tears. Gradually his breathing evened out, as he concentrated on taking slow, deep breaths, rather than any the thoughts swirling around in head. When Alex eventually felt a bit more in control of himself, and very certain that there would be no tears, he finally opened his eyes.

It was only now, feeling a little bit more like his usual self that he realised where, in his disoriented and upset state, he had run to. It was the old park near his house in Chelsea. The place where he used to have football practices, mess around with Tom, meet up with his friends and once, well, once he'd been sent on a mission from here. How he'd ended up here Alex wasn't exactly sure. If he was honest with himself, Alex couldn't really remember much of anything after the disastrous conversation with Jack. He'd just felt so overwhelmed he'd run blind, and apparently, somewhere in his brain, had decided to go to his childhood hiding place. For indeed, this was the place where he had hidden from Ian, and later Jack when he was mad at them. This was his escape, and he supposed his subconscious knew that, had guided him here even when the rest of Alex was switched off. Alex stretched out his legs, put his arms behind his head and tried to relax against the trunk, breathing in the fresh air.

It had been an incredibly long day, thought Alex; he'd had two confrontations, almost burst into tears and skipped school on purpose for pretty much the first time not related to a mission. Now, more than ever, relaxed against the tree, he felt so, so tired. Hadn't he been contemplating how old he felt scant hours ago? It felt like years away. He couldn't make sense of the thoughts in his head; it was like he had just woken up, groggy and confused, having possibly just been drugged. Except that he'd been awake for about eleven hours now. His head was pounding though, and his chest felt tight, almost as if an invisible hand was squeezing his heart. What was wrong with him? He should be used to being let down by now, he should be used to the disappointment. If only Alex could stop being so emotional. He was like a toddler, whining and feeling sorry for himself. He needed to harden his mind.

Jack was gone and he just needed to except that and move on. He didn't blame her; it wasn't like she'd just decided to leave him. MI6 had made her. Still, he wished she had fought to come back, even though her life was easier and happier in America. He understood her though. She wasn't a spy and shouldn't have had to deal with the world of espionage that had no right entering her life. It wasn't her legacy; he wasn't even related to her. Really, Alex thought, he should be happy that Jack was back in America. He loved her and this was what was best for her. He was just overreacting. After all, he knew she loved him. She had bossed her way through MI6 until she could contact him. She just… couldn't deal with the pressure the way he could, and she shouldn't have to. He was happy for her, really he was.

Gradually, people began vacating the park while the last traces of sunlight vanished as the sun set. Alex groaned, stirring his heavy limbs. He really had no willpower to get back to the Home. He supposed by now people might be worried, but he really couldn't muster up the drive to care. He'd had a pretty awful day, so they could worry all they like. Still, he knew it would probably be a good idea to get moving soon. He pushed up off the ground and onto his feet, trying to shake the lethargy from his limbs. He meandered along the path in the direction of the bus stop, ignoring the people around him.

Three lumbering shapes made their way into his peripheral vision and Alex nearly groaned. He'd thought his day had already hit rock bottom, but this was another low. From the stench of alcohol on their breath, the three were obviously starting the weekend early. He could only hope they'd back off when they saw he wasn't afraid. This thought last approximately five seconds, until he turned around and came face to face with Jim's older brother. While Alex couldn't remember his name, he recognised the boy, or rather, man for he had to be about twenty, from when he went to Brookland. He'd been a bully, obviously where Jim had learnt the behaviour, but he had also been a pretty violent one. Alex knew that with alcohol imbibing him and his lackeys with liquid courage there was no way that they would let him go without a fight.

"Rider." Jim's brother, who Alex now thought might be called Will, sneered.

Alex was about to just make a run for it, totally uninterested in fighting, when one of the thugs put a heavy hand on his shoulder and growled.

"I would stay where you are, if I were you." Alex sighed in response, knowing that he could get the guy off him in a couple of seconds, but really hoping it wouldn't be necessary.

"I saw what you said to my brother, hotshot. It's all over Facebook. I think we need to teach you a lesson." Will –as Alex had decided to call him for lack of having any better names- sounded pretty mad, his anger obviously fuelled by alcohol. As he spoke, he stepped into Alex's face, using his height to intimidate (yeah right) the younger boy. Alex sighed, the powers of Facebook, of course. However, what Alex really wanted to know was how Jim's brother had found him. In his line of work you really couldn't afford to be easy to trace.

"But how did you find me?" Alex widened his eyes, letting a bit of fear flash in them as he met Will's eyes, before lowering his eyes to the ground submissively. It never hurt to let the enemy think they had the upper hand.

"That, my friend, was a piece of luck." Will replied, tilting his chin up arrogantly. "I thought I might have to come find you at that orphanage of yours, but here I find you, lurking about, just begging for someone to put you in your place."

Alex allowed himself a small shiver and looked up at Will meekly, their eyes connecting as Will allowed a smug smile to creep onto his lips. Only to start swearing as Alex, restrained only by an arm on his shoulder, spun away from it and felled him with a jab to the kidney. While Will was doubled over however, Thug 1 and Thug 2 rushed at him from either side. Alex caught the punch directed at his face, turning at an angle as he did so to allow Thug 2's punch to glance past his side.

Enraged Thug 2 tried to tackle Alex to the ground. Alex pivoted away, using the momentum to flip Thug 1 onto his back, temporarily winding him. As Alex turned back to Thug 2, Will grabbed him by the ankle, and Alex was forced to take a punch to his stomach, which luckily wasn't terribly strong from an obviously untrained twenty-something. Alex ducked away from a second punch, turning with his free foot and digging his heel into the tendons of Will's hand, figuring it was better than kicking him in the head. Will screeched and let go, just in time for Alex to deliver a solid kick in the chest to Thug 2, which toppled him to the ground. Will, now clutching his hand and Thug 1, who was limping slightly, tried to rush Alex, but Alex was too fast for them. After avoiding their laboured punches, their reflexes slowed by the alcohol they consumed, Alex kicked Will in the back of the knee, and while Will dropped like a stone he swung his leg around to hit Thug 1's side, causing him to stagger.

It was then that Alex ran. He wasn't injured too badly, although his stomach ached slightly, making it a little hard for him to breathe. Still, it was nothing compared to some of the injuries he'd had, and he was far better off than the other three. Alex allowed himself a small smile of grim satisfaction, before laughing sardonically in his head. He really had nothing to smile about. This had been one of the most horrible days of his life. Well actually it wasn't very near the top of his list, after all, almost being eaten by sharks, octopuses, dissected and other such horrors that he had encountered on his missions tended to rate a bit higher on the list. But in terms of emotional train wrecks, this was definitely one of them.

He was nowhere near the Home, and would have to catch a bus back and hope that the idiots wouldn't follow him. Alex scanned the street, slowing to a jog as he approached the bus stop, glad to find not one of them in sight. Relieved, Alex checked the bus schedule, finding the next bus would depart in five minutes. He heaved a grateful sigh and collapsed on the bench.

Everything ached. His heart, his stomach and his legs were head pounded painfully and all he really watd was a glass of water. This day had been ridiculous. It just seriously should not be possible for days as awful as this one to happen, Alex decided. He didn't care about Murphy's Law, he just wanted for this stuff to stop happening to him.

"Excuse me." A high, reedy voice interrupted his thoughts and Alex glanced over to see a frail looking old lady staring at him through the thick frames of her glasses. Alex stared back dumbly, unsure of what she wanted.

"Are you alright?" She asked, taking in his dishevelled appearance in concern.

"Uh, yeah." He replied eloquently. Ok, so it was more of a pained grunt really.

The lady looked at him in concern, her brow furrowed as she contemplated his appearance. Alex could only guess what he looked like, sweaty from exertion, clothes dirty, both from the fight and the afternoon spent on the ground. He was a mess.

"You poor thing!" The lady exclaimed, and Alex couldn't help but be surprised that she hadn't started screaming. "You look like you've been in the wars today."

Alex didn't know how to reply to that. He didn't know how to reply to sympathy really, not when the people who normally see him injured were the Heads and the Brookland kids. Only Jack… He shook himself away from that thought and shrugged at the sweet lady, grinning wryly.

"What on earth happened, dear?" The lady asked sympathetically.

Alex felt the sudden urge to pour out his entire to story to this kind old lady with the gentle eyes and compassionate voice. He wanted so desperately to confide in somebody, to complain and whine like a teenager to an understanding ear.

"Three guys jumped me in the park. For my wallet I guess. But I ran off." He replied.

He just couldn't. It might be pretty awful to shoulder his problems by himself, but it was still a lot better than burdening them on anyone else. Especially a lovely old lady, who, instead of assuming he was bad news when she saw his condition had taken the time to offer kindness and concern for his wellbeing.

His day may have been awful, but at least he could still have some faith in humanity.

-X-

Later that night, after a lecture on skipping school, returning late without prior notice and extra chores as a result, Alex finally checked his email. No one else was in the room, so Alex didn't feel self conscious when he slammed his hands against the desk as he saw the email that was, supposedly from Jack. Or rather, he slammed them when he saw the new one.

_Alex,_

_I really want to see you. I miss you so much. Please, please reply! _

_Love,_

_Jack_

Angrily he span around, running his hands through his hair as he tried to compose himself. What did it mean, I really want to see you? She was in America! He could hardly just hop on a plane and oh-

It couldn't possibly be from Jack. Which meant, of course, it was from someone else.

Suddenly feeling cold, Alex shivered slightly, hastily closing his browsing session and walking up to his room.

Trent nodded at him when he entered, head bopping to his music.

Alex collapsed on his bed, before deciding after a second that he really couldn't stay awake any longer. He stood and peeled off his shirt.

"Dude, what happened?" Trent asked, his voice sounding almost choked.

Alex startled. He had forgotten Trent was in the room at all. He normally avoided getting changed in front of him, or turned so that he was facing the wall, but he'd been so out of it today that he had forgotten and now Trent was staring at him with wide eyes.

It was then that Alex looked down and saw the angry red, fist sized mark that had blossomed on his stomach. Combined with old scars such as a his bullet wound, he must look appalling.

"Man, seriously. What even…" Trent seemed overwhelmed just looking at it and Alex searched his face for signs of disgust but found only confusion and concern.

"Let's just say it's been a long day, a long year really and leave it at that." Alex replied.

Trent nodded solemnly.

"You should probably put something on that." Was all he said.

Alex nodded too.

If it had been Jack she would have clucked over him, ranted about the world and given him sympathy. If it had been Tom he would have been shocked and horrified, probably tried to get some kind of revenge and asked Alex if it was possible to sic MI6 on the men. But Trent patted Alex on the shoulder, gave him a chocolate bar and told him a funny story.

Alex went to bed feeling that maybe it hadn't been such a terrible day after all.

**A/N: Here's a bit of a longer chapter for you, to make up for it's questionable quality. I bring this to you from my sick bed!**

**I wasn't too sure about the fight scene, I really did almost cut it altogether, but I listened to the Hunger Games soundtrack and eventually ended up with this chapter. **

**I wanted to thank everyone (again) so much for all the awesome reviews I've been getting and also thanks to the 300+ people who have this story on alert, it's very flattering! **

**Please drop a review, especially on any tips for fights scenes and/or advice on how to make Alex's life a bit happier, considering how absolutely horrible I've been to him these past few chapters! Your reviews will make him smile! Just kidding, nothing makes him smile anymore. (: And sorry for the ridiculously long AN. **


	17. Chapter 17

Sounds of early morning filled Alex's ears as he woke from deep slumber. He'd collapsed into bed the night before and could feel the previous days after affects etched into his every bone, muscle and ligament. Honestly, it felt like he'd been at a rave last night, except with more fighting and less dancing. Alex firmly decided that he was going to forget the events of yesterday and only remember them when his body stopped aching.

Unwilling to get up, Alex lay in bed for a while longer, before Trent's appearance and reminder that it was a school day finally forced him out of bed. He pushed his tousled hair away from his eyes and glared at anyone who made eye contact with him at the breakfast table. This of course, only led to the boys teasing him ferociously about what kind of fun he'd been getting up to last night.

"How much did you drink, man?" Asked Ben, ruffling his hair.

Alex glared at him, but didn't say anything. He was really too tired (and too grumpy) to deign Ben's ridiculous comment with a response.

"Did you go to a real fight club?" Caleb half shouted in his enthusiasm. Alex stared stonily at his cereal, determined to ignore the hyper twelve year old, lest he end up shouting at him.

"Guys, guys," Trent said calmingly. "Alex didn't get drunk last night or go to a fight club. He obviously got a arrested for drug trafficking!"

Everyone laughed at this, though Alex wasn't sure if they thought Trent's declaration was true or not. While he would never touch drugs, some of the boys sitting around him probably had. Alex sent a peeved glance towards Trent. Just when you thought someone was on your side…

"Oh, lighten up Alex!" Darren laughed. "He was just taking the mick."

"Ha very ha." Replied Alex, rolling his eyes.

"You've been spending too much time with Timmy." Joked someone and everyone laughed again. The comment was followed by quite a bit of shoving and one of the Wardens, Ms P, finally came in to tell them to knock it off.

"Aw, Ms P," Said Darren in a sugary voice. "We're just having a laugh." He shot wide, innocent looking (or rather terribly incriminating) eyes at her.

"Well do it at school then," She replied sharply. "Oh, go on with you Darren." She said with a laugh a moment later when Darren turned an even more pitiful expression at her.

Alex couldn't help but marvel at the atmosphere at the Dulwich Care Boy's Home. Movies and TV shows always portrayed orphanages and institutions like this as depressing places full of rats, cockroaches and crotchety or abusive carers. But really, however much it paled in comparison to having a real home, it was a far cry from what Blunt had threatened. Alex couldn't help but think that maybe MI6 was warming up to him. Then he curled his lip in disgust at the thought. That could hardly be considered a good thing. But hey, at least he wasn't getting locked in a basement or whatever it was that was supposed to happen at orphanages.

-X-

"So Alex." Said Trent, sidling up to Alex in the school hallway and bumping shoulders. "There's a party-"

"No." Replied Alex flatly.

"But it will be really-"

"No."

"Oh, come on-"

"No."

"Darren help me out here!" Exclaimed Trent, frustrated.

"Alex, come on." Wheedled Darren. "It's Friday. No school, start of the weekend, it'll be a blast. Everyone's going!"

Alex raised an eyebrow in response.

"Seriously!" Enthused Darren, encouraged by Alex's reaction. "Me. Trent. Ben. Joe. Tim. Girls."

"Yeah!" Agreed Trent. "It will be awesome. Music, dancing, girls. Maybe alcohol. It's at Ryan Fletcher's house."

Alex recognised the name as one of the sixth formers who hung out with some of the older boys from the Home.

"I still say no." Alex stated firmly. "Partying is really not my thing."

"Come on!" Darren was staring at him with wide eyes. "I swear it's fun! You don't have to drink. Pretty much everyone from the Home goes, because we're allowed out Friday nights. Curfew is extended until 10pm. We always get invited because people think it's cool to have 'wrong side of the tracks' kids at the parties. Plus Ben knows everyone."

"It really is fun." Trent agreed. "We hang out, feel like normal teenagers. You know?"

It was really that comment that did it for Alex. For all he knew he wasn't even going to see sixteen, so really, what did he have to lose? He didn't need to drink any alcohol and he could leave whenever he wanted. He'd never actually been to a party before, so he may as well tick all the teenager boxes and do it.

"Ok fine." He agreed. Darren let out a great whoop that caused the people around them to stare. Trent clapped him on the shoulder.

"Awesome!" He exclaimed.

"But," Began Alex, raising a hand. "If I hate it I'm leaving."

The two boys ignored him in favour of high-fiving each other. Alex scowled again.

"Careful," Teased Darren, "If you do that too often your face will stick like that!"

Alex punched him in the arm while Trent laughed hysterically.

-X-

The inside of the house was deafening as Alex walked inside. Music pulsed from speakers in the living room and people's bodies crowded the surrounding rooms. Alex took one look and promptly tried to escape out the front door.

"Oh, no you don't!" Yelled Darren, and really he did have to yell considering how loud the music was. "Come on Alex! Just give it a go!"

"This really isn't my kind of thing." Said Alex, sighing. "Everything is so loud and there are so many _people._"

Actually the whole thing looked like a spy's nightmare, too many people crowded together in an enclosed space. It looked like it was impossible to move without bumping into someone and it would be impossible to make a quick get away.

Alex shook his head, as if he could physically rid himself of the thoughts. Stop it, he told himself firmly. He was not going to let MI6 ruin absolutely everything about being a teenager. If he couldn't handle a house party then there was something very wrong with him. He'd been in space! A house party was nothing. Still, it was hard to shake the feeling that he was walking into some kind of trap.

"'Sup guys!" Crowed a random teenager, coming over to give out fist bumps. He didn't seem to care that Alex was an unfamiliar face as he held out his fist. Alex tried to force a smile on his face as he held up his in reply, though by the exasperated look on Trent's face he guessed it looked more like a grimace.

They were lead into the living room, where several dozen people were dancing. Well, most of them were dancing; some of them were wrapped around the opposite gender. Alex couldn't help but stare at one couple, wondering distantly if they were going to come up for air any time soon. Alex couldn't help but wonder what it was exactly, that you were meant to _do _at this kind of thing. Did you go to get drunk and snog, or were there other allures?

"Come on, man!" Darren clapped him on the back. "Go socialise!"

Oh, Alex thought drearily. Apparently that.

-X-

He'd been wandering around the house for about half an hour now, nursing a drink of something he didn't dare actually sip. The last thing he needed was to get accidentally drunk at a high school house party. Trent and Darren were off _socialising _with girls and Alex just couldn't bring himself to bother. He was still sore and tired and after the first ten minutes he hadn't been able to remember why he had agreed to come in the first place. He didn't really know very many of these people, at least not enough to comfortably crash their conversation. He also had zero interest in making new friends. What he really wanted to do was leave.

"Alex?" Asked a voice from somewhere to his left. A familiar girl was approaching him.

"Um, Gwen?" He ventured, hoping he'd gotten the name right. "From Brookland?"

"Yeah!" She smiled at him, face lighting up. "What are the chances right?"

Alex couldn't say he knew why she was talking to him, knowing that she went to Brookland. Still, he figured, it wouldn't hurt to make small talk, since he didn't actually want to live up to his reputation as a horrible person.

"So what are you doing here?" He asked, "Who do you know?" He added, hoping he sounded at least a little bit interested in the reply.

"Oh, I used to live around here before I moved. A bit farther out –that's why I changed schools- but some of my friends invited me. You?" She tossed her hair over her shoulder.

"Oh, um, it's hosted by someone at my new school and I got dragged."

"Right." She laughed. "I guess you must come to these a lot?" She was looking at him in interest and Alex wondered apathetically if she was flirting with him. Was she trying to flirt for information to take back to Brookland? Not that it would work, he hadn't cracked under torture, he was hardly going to spill his secrets to a pretty face.

"First one actually." He couldn't help but think bitterly that of course, his Brookland no-good reputation would have been at all the parties, getting drunk or doing drugs or whatever. He took a small piece of satisfaction from the look of surprise on her face.

"Oh, wow. I just kinda thought, you know?"

Alex sighed. He really wasn't in the mood.

"Look Gwen." He said. "I'm really not very interesting. I don't do drugs and I'm not in a gang. If you came over to dig up some dirt you aren't going to find any."

"I was just trying to be friendly Alex." Gwen replied. "Just being nice. If you didn't want to talk you could have just said so."

Pity. It was the bane of his existence. He didn't get it often, but it always made him feel a bit vulnerable. He was definitely feeling a bit of pity directed his way.

"Sorry." He muttered, unsure if he was telling the truth.

Gwen pursed her lips, then grabbed his hand.

"Come meet my friends." She said.

He let himself be pulled across the room and into a circle of girls, who immediately descended upon Gwen with questions. Alex stood slightly off to one side, wanting to be able to escape quickly if they turned on him with their claws out.

"Who's this Gwen?" A girl with curly blonde hair asked. She was definitely checking him out, Alex knew, because her eyes blatantly raked up and down his body, lingering on his chest. He did his best to look uninterested and avoid eye contact.

"This is Alex guys, he used to go to Brookland." Gwen introduced him.

"Alex who?" One girl asked, and he got a sinking feeling in his stomach. "Not Rider?"

"Yeah." Replied Gwen. "You know him?"

"Heard of." The girl replied. "Heard he was bad news."

"Melanie!" Gwen exclaimed. "Alex is a nice guy. You shouldn't listen to what you here."

"And you shouldn't be deceived by a pretty face." Melanie replied. "But whatever, your funeral. I'm just saying I've heard he is in every kind of trouble there is. "

Gwen sighed and turned to Alex who was standing there, face like stone.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know they'd react like that." Alex shook his head; he didn't really know what to say in reply. Gwen had kind of defended him but Alex was a bit worried to hear that his reputation had spread as far as his new neighbourhood. Not that anyone would expect any less from a boy in a home, he supposed. But would it have been so bad to start fresh?

"Thanks." Was what he finally settled on before walking away, intent on finding Trent or Darren.

Neither of the boys were interested in leaving so Alex ended up walking home himself. The cool night air felt good on his face, though his muscles protested every movement. As he walked he couldn't help but think that Trent's plan to cheer him up had spectacularly backfired.

He was just so glad it was Friday.

**A/N: So, um, hi. I had this half finished on my laptop forever. I was trying to make it a happy chapter, and yeah, that just doesn't work for me. The only way I could write this was angsty, hence the huge wait while I tried to work this out. **

**So, if anyone is still reading this, sorry about all the dialogue it just kinda happened. Hopefully the next chapter will be a bit better!**

**Reviews are still loved though! **


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